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.