When you look at paintings what do you see?
Do you find the beauty?
Do you search for the reason that it was created?
Do you look for meaning?
When I look at a painting I wonder if the painter hated it.
Did they notice one line that's out of place?
Did they think the hue was off?
Did they beat themselves up over it?
When I look at actors, directors, designers, etc. I question if they like their work. How many of the actors we have seen hated their acting? What directors wish they had done a better job? Which costume designers wish they had picked a more breathable fabric?
I beat myself up about almost everything I do. I have depression, it's not something I hide as talking about it not only helps me but I know it helps others like me. When I look at art I can see the beauty but that's not what I want to find. I'm craving artists like me.
I like looking at the Wanderlust and wondering if the painter was melancholy at home. I wonder if someone in Der Die Man is compensating for their unhappiness by making others laugh. I'm not here for joy or beauty; I am here for a connection to the real vulnerability of humanity.
Today my mother asked me if the art I have experienced here has made me happy and I couldn't really come up with an answer; not because of my depression but because with this trip that's simply not what I have been looking for.
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