Does this explain everything or nothing?

How do we acquire aesthetic awareness?

Naturally, as a (ahem) right-thinking, Guardian-reading, NCT-subscribing, art-loving mother, I took great care to ensure not only that my babies listened to plenty of Bach and Mozart in utero, but also that they were surrounded from their earliest days only by the very finest visual stimuli. No kitchy trash allowed in my Parenting Project, thankyouverymuch. Oh no, certainly not. Only the best for my babies. How else could I ensure that they would develop Exquisite Good Taste and the enhanced appreciation of line, colour and form commensurate with their borderline genius status?

After all, they were Children of Mine, and I, naturally, have all those qualities (excepting the borderline genius bit, obviously) in abundance, don't I? It must have been the way I was brought up by my own discerning parents. 

Well . . . actually, NOT! Here are a few pages from some of the children's books (comparatively few of them, compared with the abundance owned by the current generation) I used to pore over for hours at a time (no telly in them days!).

And look - aren't they just hideous? The epitome of kitch. If they weren't a precious part of my childhood, I wouldn't give them house room.

One thing, though - perhaps this picture explains my penchant for finding spectacular sunsets heavenly?

There are undoubtedly plenty of instructive conclusions to be drawn from all this.

I'm just not sure I want to investigate them!