The actual purpose of art is to encode novel experiential memories to slow down your perception of time.
Every painting or project you work on that involves having to confront an uncomfortable challenge, and then your experience trying to overcome the challenge, and whether or not you did and how that influenced your life, tricks your monkey ego brain into convincing your survival lizard brain into thinking this is a permanent memory, hardcoding every novel painting or project and the experiential memory of working on it into your perception of the past. Making your life have more installs recallable novel stress memories slows down the perception that “time is passing you by” because you remember moving and working through that time as you moved and worked through space.
Every painting of mine I look at remember being there with the same experiential memory intensity as I remember near death experiences.
While I’ll look at a video game that I consumed for 100 hours and all of that data gets compressed into shit like “I liked it” as a memory. Consumption and comfort aren’t things your lizard survival brain is interested in and makes no effort to encode into your sense of being. It’s a distraction to make time speed up and get you closer to death with as minimal existential stress as possible.
Everything you create in space is evidence you existed in time.
Bonus haiku:
>Nothing is perfect,
>and anything is better.
>Time is entropy.
Every painting or project you work on that involves having to confront an uncomfortable challenge, and then your experience trying to overcome the challenge, and whether or not you did and how that influenced your life, tricks your monkey ego brain into convincing your survival lizard brain into thinking this is a permanent memory, hardcoding every novel painting or project and the experiential memory of working on it into your perception of the past. Making your life have more installs recallable novel stress memories slows down the perception that “time is passing you by” because you remember moving and working through that time as you moved and worked through space.
Every painting of mine I look at remember being there with the same experiential memory intensity as I remember near death experiences.
While I’ll look at a video game that I consumed for 100 hours and all of that data gets compressed into shit like “I liked it” as a memory. Consumption and comfort aren’t things your lizard survival brain is interested in and makes no effort to encode into your sense of being. It’s a distraction to make time speed up and get you closer to death with as minimal existential stress as possible.
Everything you create in space is evidence you existed in time.
Bonus haiku:
>Nothing is perfect,
>and anything is better.
>Time is entropy.
