âThe artistic scene in LA has turned so⌠Hipster, is what you all call it?â Irina said from behind a glass of wine while she looked at some art hung in a wall from the gallery opening she had been invited to. âWhere are the real artists? The ones who poured their feelings and ideas into strokes of a brush and made them come to life with paint? Now all we get is splatters and toilets called âinstallationsâ.âÂ
âUgh, tell me about it.â Mary had her back to the âartâ, if you could call it that, that the woman was looking at, drinking her water with as much disdain as she could manage. âI mean, thereâs being different, and then thereâs just being lazy.â












