One. I don't really like saying nasty (even constructively nasty) things about specific work - there's (nearly) always something to like for some reason or other. Ok, sometimes a very small something, but it's someone's artistic endeavour and I don't know that anyone should be discouraged too much. Besides which I don't feel that I have the right.
Two. Or the knowledge. It's generally seen as a mark of ignorance to say anything along the lines of 'I don't know much about art but I know what I like', but broadly that's always been my approach (go on, say it, so I'm ignorant). Yes, I can see consummate skills and still not like where the work ends up, but if I like something I'm liable to be far less critical. Not a terribly objective observer.
Three. As I've mentioned before, I don't always pay sufficient attention. If something doesn't grab me, I don't necessarily look at all, and thereby miss a lot of quiet beauties and slow burners, I'm absolutely sure.
Four. I change my mind a lot. Which is where this chain of thought began. Having flipped my way through it a number of times since Saturday, I'm staring at the Printfest exhibition catalogue