What happened to appreciating pure aesthetics?  My problem with Americans: If you can't wear it, use it or sit on it... you say, fuck it.  Why isn't aesthetic pleasure a commodity?  Why do people prefer to look at beige walls?  Why can't people see the value of a line or a curve or chiaroscuro?  There was  a time in my life where I valued my optical experience over all else.  It was the best part of my life.  I can't imagine a life without a visual feast.

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