Another view from Ocean Avenue in Santa Monica
Art has been ruthlessly attacked by postmodernism for the last century with the aim to reduce you to a moron. Specifically to cut you off from art, your senses, your heart, and your intelligence. Their road map is to dump senseless shit on you, like Duchamp’s Urinal and Creed’s audio recordings of him farting (Tate Modern). One part of the antidote is to reconnect to visual perception. If a visual artist is not making things based on their perception they are pissing on you and themselves. Their lack of self-awareness and self-esteem is one of the most pathetic phenomenon of the 20th and 21st centuries. If you subscribe to it you will subscribe to any horror and sadistic things power manipulators will do to you — well deserved too.
There is nothing more natural and beautiful then to indulge in saturating your senses with perception and the artworks that celebrate it. The experience of being 100% in the present, looking, feeling, contemplating is a sublime moment. I am fortunate that I rejected postmodernism, as a mental disease, early on in my life — it freed me to embrace moments like this one, sitting on bank overlooking this palm and the Santa Monica sand, without a care in the world other than to celebrate being alive and able to draw what I am seeing.
I love this composition of the large dark slope of ice plant, mirrored by the equally sized light sky. A fun symbolic element is the phallic palm, with its overflowing fronds, exploding in its uprightness. : )
Michael Newberry, Idyllwild, 10/11/2020
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