gold over the skin of the tree
The Port of Marseille
Albert Marquet - 1916
The Kerouacian deception that “self” is the greatest runs thick in our generation. Statements akin to, “I just need to be about me right now, “My twenties are about doing what I want to do,” et al mark our generation as the most self-absorbed, self-obsessed generation to grace this globe.
The glorification of self, the misuse of personal freedom, and warped carpe diem ideology is nothing more than thinly veiled attempt at rationalizing behaving like an adult child that dictates exactly what they want to the world at large, crying foul when the world does not placate them as their parents always have.
This road leads to nothing but isolation and emptiness; it is a bucket full of holes, “free to leak out its water if it damn well wants to!”
“How beautiful it is here, to be sure, but how difficult to paint! I can see what I want to do quite clearly but I’m not there yet. It’s so clear and pure in its pinks and blues that the slightest misjudged stroke looks like a smear of dirt.”
Morning at Antibes, Claude Monet
I want to see that brilliant Mediterranean blue with my own eyes. Someday…someday.
Jardí Botànic Antic.
Egyptian Revival bookcase (1830)
Jackson Pollock, Untitled, 1949
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