Filling the Void
One must start looking at “Filling the Void” by asking what is the aesthetic role of the unpainted “void.” My eyes roller coaster from the left with rolling of green and red slamming to a visual stop at the wall of the “void” space. My eyes next
jump the cotton balls of yellow and circle back in the milquitoast sea of blue. All the circling is around the bristling void space. Bristling. Bristling? Yes.
The void is nothing … nothing harmful, nothing imposing, just nothing, nothing at all. Why does it hurt so much?
On the other hand, why are we so compelled to fill the void when it gives us pause to the everything, to all of the distracting somethings?
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