'There really is no such thing as Art. There are only artists.'

I’ve finally found that if I simply sit here in my office in my orange chair while looking out the window, I can accomplish a great deal of simply looking.

By then, it’s the wee hours of my looking out of the window when I am filled with the idea of my non-existence! The feeling is exhilarating! As if I’m in a Category 3 hurricane, that some of us will live if we’re lucky and some of us will die if we’re not lucky, that hurricanes come and go according to FEMA., and FEMA no longer exists. This information is neither interesting or uninteresting to me, but it takes all the air out of the category of either Interesting or Not Interesting and so I let it go, crossing both categories out as I’m no longer a Christian.

What is interesting to me? That the best title of a book I’ve ever read is Twilight of the Gods.

While looking out the window, I still do wonder about other things I’ve been thinking: do people still drink Evian Water? And if they do, can they drown in it?

No, I don't know that any of the questions I’ve asked so far have any answers, but I am sure of my ability to keep looking out of the window while sitting in my orange chair, watching a batch of black crows come face-to-face with me after flying into the big green tree outside my window.

Artwork in progress, ‘Heaven on Earth’’, mixed media. Quote from Ernst Gombrich, author of The Story of Art, the best-selling book on art ever issued, 1950. Photo by author, June 2025.