Sometimes I end up thinking about the time i first saw this painting at the MoMA. That feeling of gazing into something you have waited to look at for so long just hits you with such force that you can’t help but tear up makes me wish I could feel something similar right now. Have i just become too jaded to appreciate things right now that I fail to look at things with the same wonder and amazement? Or am I just too cynical to care?
I need a break.