The reason we like second rate art is that it's better than we can do.

Have you ever walked through an art museum with an artist friend who told you all the reasons that a painting you loved was inferior to an earlier version done by a master?

Have you ever listened, in rapt attention, to a concert with a musician friend who pointed out later that all the pieces were done better by a symphony in London or New York or wherever?

Have you ever talked about a novel you'd just read, and loved, with an English Ph.D. friend, who raised an eyebrow at your reading choice?

We've all been through variations of these scenarios. What they mean is that most of don't know much about literature or art but, as the old saying goes, we know what we like. And we know that we couldn't, in our wildest dreams, paint or write or sculpt or score anything nearly as good.

That's why we like what we like, and it's an honest response/assessment. We don't come to the arts with pre-concieved notions, with intellectual baggage. Our reaction is purely personal. We like what we like because it connects with us, whoever we are at that point in our life, on a level we can't talk about. We just like it!

But we have to realize that there really are people who have studied painting or literature or sculpture or whatever and who know how what someone did centuries ago fits with what someone did yesterday. They visualize the whole history of art. So we should recognize and acknowledge their authority and pay them their due. But we don't have to accept their judgment when it clashes with our own.

The best art, the lasting art, has always not only enlightened but also entertained, so you and I are free to read the novels of Grisham or Koontz instead of McCarthy and Proulx (who are THEY?) and to collect little hand-painted dolls instead of original oil paintings and to listen to Enya all night before we'd think of putting on something by Brahms played by some big-name orchestra or symphony -- and what's the difference between the two anyway?

I'm primarily a writer, so I'm kind of snob about what I read and don't read, but I'm a total novice/fool/bumpkin when it comes to any of the other arts. I don't read Grisham and Koontz, but I'm "blown away" by walking through a college art department showing student work. Whoa! How did that guy or girl -- a third my age! -- manage to capture just that right image of the old man on the sofa? Look at the color! I could never do that! And is that a flower? Or is it a head? Something interesting is going on here.

In the wings, my art history major friend clucks. How could I be so naive? "I may not know art," I say, "but I know what I like." My know-it-all art friend sneers. "What you like is shit. Let's go get a beer, and I'll explain."

When I hear ANY orchestra or symphony (what's the difference?) play any "classical" work, I think it's the best I've ever heard. My music major friend stands offstage, rolling her eyes.

We all encounter the arts -- anything creative, from making birdhouses to writing plays -- but we don't all STUDY them. That makes those who do a lot smarter than the rest of us about the history of that particular genre and maybe what to look for or at in a particular painting or piece of sculpture or story.

But it doesn't, or shouldn't, stop the rest of us from enjoying the arts ON OUR LEVEL, meaning: better than I can do. And appealing to me in a way I can't describe. It would look good on my office wall, okay? It works for me. Is it derivative of Monet? So be it!

I can't sing at all, so I love almost anybody's voice, and I have no idea whose is "better" than any other. To me, Hank Williams is the equal of Pavarotti, and Emilou Harris is as good as any opera singer. All I know is that both their voices were WAY better than mine, so I'm free to pick and choose among them with no guilt, only pleasure.

What all of this means is that there are two ways to look at any work of art: the scholar's way and the average person's way, the latter being the buying/seeing/appreciating public. And of course there are those in the middle who know something about the art but aren't scholars and who can advise us "bottom feeders" (me with music, for sure) on what to listen to and for, what to see, etc. They can be valuable guides, but they all come with their own tastes and biases, so beware.

In the end, we should read and see and listen to what appeals to us, what makes us feel better, but be open to the idea that we might heed the advice of those of have devoted whole lives to the study of the arts and, once in a while, take their advice on something or other. It won't hurt, and it might just ratchet us up another notch, challenge us, while still keeping us entertained.

Above all, enjoy the arts. That's why they were created and continue to be created, for the most part by people who have no expectation of making a dime from their efforts. They're just trying to get us to share their vision of something that may not exist but that maybe should or could.

So why does all that made-up stuff sometimes seem more real than life? Why does a novel or play or poem or painting or song stick with us when all our real relationships have ended?

What's THAT all about?

It's all about art, and it's a grand mystery, so just sit back and enjoy it. One of life's gifts, to make up for all the misery and confusion of our real lives. Someone has imagined a different reality, and sometimes it's better, or more interesting, than our own.

Sit back, with a glass of wine or a beer, or just good company -- or even silence -- and enjoy.