This is a conflict that faces many people especially when confronted with modern art, but as I tend to see odd images as I wander round town, I sometimes struggle to comprehend what I am seeing. These are images from a railway wall that skirts the edge of central Cardiff.
On one level filling these niches in the wall with any waste is rubbish, but even discarded cans have colour and shape, and relieve the monotony of the mass of grey, not much different to that of flowers.
Though I think I draw a line at this plastic cup as being art
Or maybe they all fall into the category that often turns me into a harrumphing old cow when people leave cups as they are passing, too lazy to carry them empty though they could cope with the inconvenience when full. They even do it in shops: