Looking at Art Makes Me Feel Alive

Witnessing a person, or persons, creativity consumes me with wonder.

Wonder and hope.

When I look at art, I imagine the artist and the life in which the art was created.

When I look at art, not in a book but in its true human form, I feel as if I am meeting someone for the first time, even if I have met them before.

Looking at art is a full sensory experience, made all the more profound by the forbiddeness of touch.

Like being in the heart of a landscape, either wilderness or urban, looking at art causes the blood to course through my veins, my knees to weaken, my mind to explode from that which I cannot control but can only feel.

Looking at art fills me with a longing to search out the best in myself.

To never stop looking. To never stop seeing.

Footnote: These pictures capture a week on the streets of London where the days were dense with unbridled voyeurism. Ric thought I should edit the images and he is probably right, but I want you to feel as wildly overwhelmed as I did.

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