I have no idea what could possibly be found on Instagram. I came to the conclusion that the only compelling reason could be masturbation. Okay, that is sorted.
It really is amazing how I quickly turned cold toward photography. Photography was my first art. Photography leaves me Stone Cold.
Now, when I see even the corner of a Rembrandt nose I start shaking. When I see ancient Greek marble I start shaking. When I even think of what I've seen from Michelangelo I literally start shaking. I'm 500/2k years out of touch. And I still like brown. I could sleep with brown under my pillow and I have to deliberately deliberate with myself about the next work that it shouldn't be brown. I've seen tons of contemporary art and have been shaken a few times but when I saw Salvador Dali's theater and museum I was in awe. Not because it contained the greatest works of art, but the sheer scale of really inventive products of the imagination. A lot of art today lacks imagination and they all look like they could be stamps.
Now when I see handbags and especially designer handbags I immediately start puking, the only thing - a faint red chalk Leonardo drawing of some folded fabric makes me feel better again. Always brown and always perfect.
I'm in Ecstasy over the rovers on Mars, they are works of art. Works of towering human genius. I worked in technology for 10 years 10 hours a day 6 days a week and I know how hard it is to do hard things.
I get goosebumps and profound oneness with the universe thinking about these tiny human creations made by the yearnings of our soft fleshes, crawling around this alien place carrying the desperate human questions
I don't have any respect for institutions but for NASA.
I feel ecstasy like in the Bernini sculpture but the angel is not holding arrows but a Mast Cam.
I feel deep emotion and my knees get weak when I feel emotion about works of genius and towering works of art.
It's pretty funny no one has learned how to paint better in the last 300 years, Dali and Vermeer are outstanding painters, I am in awe but not weak. I also get weak about tiny dirty rocks on a alien planet. I get goosebumps and profound oneness with the universe thinking about these tiny human creations made by the yearnings of our soft fleshes, crawling around this alien place carrying the desperate human questions.
Such is the state of my material and spiritual world.