Alright, 2nd R Assignment. Here goes.

As soon as I opened up the art folder and saw the first picture I was immediately captivated by it. I didn't even look at what it was called or who it was drawn by. I still don't even know. I'd have to re-open that tab to find out.

All I could look at was the picture itself. The picture as a whole. Then the picture as a bunch of brushstrokes. Then the picture as a snapshot in time. Where some guy, dressed really well, is standing on a giant rock staring out at a serene ocean scene. And when I write the description of the picture in words, it doesn't really sound like anything special. Maybe that's because I'm not a very great writer -- or maybe that's because the picture isn't really all that astonishing in and of itself. But something about it astonished me. I felt like I could've been there with that dude. Right behind him, on the same rock. Staring out too. Contemplated life. All my good choices and bad choices and fun times and sad times. And maybe that's why it was captivating to me. Some picture made from different strokes of paint made me instantly step back and take a look at my life. I imagine that's what the nicely dressed fellow is doing out there on his rock. Either that, or contemplating suicide. Could go either way I suppose. Maybe that's what I liked about it too. That you don't know what he's doing. Is he smiling? Crying? Stern? Thoughtful? Crazy? You just don't know. You can't see his face. Just his back. And his cane. I thought his cane was really classy. Which led me to wonder what a classy guy is doing wandering around by the ocean. I wonder if he just happened upon that spot, or if that's HIS spot. And he goes there like, every morning or night or something. I'd like to have a spot of my own one day.

The other pictures were cool too. But not as cool as my foggy ocean man. I found him so mysterious and classy and intriguing. So I guess that tells me what makes me interested by something/someone -- not being able to take it at face value -- wondering what the story is.

I don't really look at much art. Well, not in a deep or meaningful way -- so basically not the way one should "look" at art. I usually just look for the most colorful one. But I do actually enjoy going to art museums. My brother and I always said we'd get rich one day and just walk into a museum and buy whatever the fuck we wanted. -- because art is beautiful. And expensive. And if we were rich, we could just do that. I think I'd buy this piece. And hang it really big. Above my fireplace. My hypothetical fireplace. I don't even have a couch. I think I'd like to see this piece every day. Because it would make me stop for a second. Whatever I was doing. And just think. Like my friend on the rock. Think about all sorts of things. And I need that sometimes. A minute or two just to think about whatever I need to. And this guy does that for me. So I guess I learned that my taste in art is something I can benefit from. Colorful stuff makes me just feel happy and thankful -- that's beneficial. But this guy is beneficial to me too. Tonight, just now, when I saw him on Blackboard, I forgot I was doing homework and just stared at him and pondered. Felt like I was really there with him. Much more vivid than if I read it in a poem or story I think. The ocean was magnificent. And he looked great too. The way he was posed with his cane. And his leg up. That's a REAL thinking pose.

Anyway, now I just feel repetitive. I guess it's because I'm floundering for how to explain WHY I got way more hung up on this picture than any of the other ones. Trying to figure out what exactly made me stop and be transported to that place with him. And feel the breeze and hear the sound of thoughtfulness all around me. I guess maybe that's an important thing too -- floundering. Because I think in the most astonishing moments, it's hard to find the words to fit. And that's kind of how I feel here. The Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog by Friedrich. That's totes my fave.