Good intentions only go so far

I try to start this story happily. Maybe there's a park; maybe there are children. Picnics come to mind, reminiscent of that pointillist painting, the one by the river. The fact that this picture is the one that comes to mind is particularly interesting, considering the two contexts in which I have come across this painting are decidedly discomforting. The first, the one that will most likely stay wedged in my mind until I lose it, is the scene from Ferris Bueller's Day Off, in which the depressed, pre-epiphany Cameron stares at the Seurat, zooming in repeatedly to get more detail. Sadly, like all his other efforts, Cameron receives the exact opposite effect, and the image descends into a meaningless blur of dots.

The second context, the one that I can barely remember though it was introduced barely a year ago, was in art history class. From what I can recall, the consensus among us was that Seurat had good intentions, but bad execution. He strived to create a utopic method of painting, one that anyone could execute. He wanted a world where everyone could be an artist. It was a warm, comforting thought, but the result of his endeavors always came off as cold, and off-putting. There was a sense of detachment, of disillusion.

So, the fact that my mind is conjuring up this particular painting when I am trying to think happy thoughts is telling. If I was back in any one of the few bullshit literature analyses classes I took in college, I would probably say my mind is telling me that happy thoughts don't always translate to happiness. Forcing the issue probably only reminds my mind of the exact thing I am trying to avoid. But that's only probably.

Bangalore, India
May 30, 2007
12:31-12:51pm
Avoiding work like it's my job. Man, what an awesome job that would be.