Feed Me With…

In the world of art, beauty seems to reign supreme. Artists consume it, not just physically but mentally and emotionally, as if that’s the only thing that matters. Aesthetics is nothing but a spectrum filled with various wavelengths, no matter which one it is, it is just a diversified choice, just like someone likes Wong Kar-wai’s sense of literature and art, an illusionary dream of an addicted world, someone likes Vinterberg’s sense of atonement, the truth behind a lie, someone likes Kieślowski’s sense of tearing. Aesthetics entails the act of choosing and judging, based on the works one has encountered. Many so-called aesthetics, or in the skin of the good-looking, especially art workers, like to emphasize the aesthetic, but reflecting on these so-called aesthetics is only a visual appearance, and simply can not reach the aesthetic level. It is not that aesthetics is profound, it is always there in life. I think aesthetics is a kind of spiritual perception, a real touch from the depths of the soul, and such aesthetics is now covered up by the beauty of form.

You have to eat it, consume it.