30 May 2025

He is lying, my dear. Hee-ah! She strikes a blow with her blade. They are in their survival bunker, drinking their last cans of Coke, as the tsunami rushes in. Their eyes flash with last goodbyes.

The last time this happened, those who sacrificed themselves for the greater good came off second-best. So unless this is finally the Last Judgment, we will act selfishly.

I open my eyes so I can absorb the eleven million bits per second of information—for a bit. What is the narrative being woven here? What pervasive feeling is being created? Happy? Sad? Regret? Acceptance?

The white water rushes into this warm scene. I didn’t think that hiding in the rocks would work. Who can hide from His judgment?

31 May 2025

Happy, sad, regret, acceptance. To just cease in an instant. To just burn up in a nuclear wave. All that, just... ending? It seems so counterintuitive.

Do we go on? Without our bodies? How, when we know nothing else? Our beings are so entwined with our bodies. How will we sustain ourselves without them? How will we remain sane? What will we do when we have nothing to move around in? And nothing to see? No bodies to absorb eleven million bits per second?

6 June 2025

This seems a very nondescript image. Why would anyone find it interesting? A nondescript image that resonates with our nondescript lives?

Does your life seem nondescript to you? Is it truly nondescript—or does your system of categories render it so? Would a shift in categories solve the problem?

Dave is blushing. He must be embarrassed about something. Is his aura of “handsome, interesting guy” holding up? His fake façade probably needs to be shattered before a more real image of him can be built.

The paint is applied relatively neatly and deliberately, except maybe for the white waterfall, which seems more chaotic. He is settled at the bottom of a U-shape—he takes the lowest position but is at the center, which creates a kind of tension.

Speaking of tension, where are the legs of the table on the right? It creates a sense of some impending spill. A fake system of valuation needs to be shattered before it can be rebuilt into something more real. This can only be done to the extent and ability of one’s aesthetic.