A recent NewScientist reported that contemplating art could allay pain.
The subjects rated the pain as being a third less intense while they were viewing the beautiful paintings, compared with contemplating the ugly paintings or the blank panel. (Link here).
Recently I’ve been spending more and more time taking photographs and I’ve noticed that when I am looking for shots my mind seems to move into a realm where worries do not intrude. I’ve found this with very few other things. Because I shoot for composition rather than content, there is some kind of a mathematical aesthetic processing going on; the search for balance and beauty seems to push everything else aside. This only happens when I am actually looking for the shot.
After taking pictures the common concerns come back, like the one where I realize that I am developing another skill just to the level before you can actually make any money from it.
On another note, just watched True Romance again and caught the brilliant quote:
I’ve lived in America all my life; I’d like to see what TV in other countries is like. (See here).
And finally: I’ve already mentioned the loss of David Foster Wallace but among the many accolades and remembrances perhaps the most fitting was the Onion one on the cancellation of Nascar in his honour (Link here). Its seems rude but I suspect it really was a homage by someone who read him. It is exactly the sort of piece he would have written.
And then damn it, James Crumley too.