.the end of a vacation

I’m not sure if I’ve ever talked about this with anybody, but I never really see the world in textured colour.  I draw (or used to draw) the same way that I see the world: dominated by lines and space, only sometimes punctuated by a single hue. Mostly I appreciate the honesty and solidarity of a single, pure colour. At the very most in compositions, I tend to use it as an accent. It is an afterthought, an added touch, a luxury and a transparent emotion. 

The feeling that a colour will sometimes evoke in me often comes as a surprise.  

With art and all design, I sometimes feel that the use of colour is cheating. It is an act of borrowing rather than creation, and to me, a visual experience must have much more in the skeleton behind it. 

Something tells me that the experience of psychedelic drugs might change that. 

I think the reason I was reminded of this was seeing Animal Collective on Sunday. It was possibly one of the best performances I have ever been to and definitely the most respect I have ever felt for two musicians (the Geologist was absent). Watching Panda Bear go at the drums was mesmerizing and I’ve never seen two musicians so genuinely and deeply connected to their music and each other. 

I think that even listening to their music a lot recently is changing the way I think about these things though… the sensations seeping in are allowing my mind to be more fluid and less sharp and absurdly rapid.