The Paintings Hang Simultaneously (from March 2023)

To walk through a museum is to backtrack along the thin tightrope of a timeline. Years unwind along lonely halls stamped with the significant integers of ancient artifacts. Plaques of text ascribe to them stories spanning generations of history, once real lives now relegated to blurbs readers will forget before they leave. Museums are bastions of what is lost, a second brain that never forgets as long as its corridors pulse with activity. On the other hand, however, they are meaningless. They are a refuge for arbitrarily valued props belonging to long-deceased lineages you will never know. It’s all distant and impersonal, yet I still found myself in attendance. Museums are the past materialized, brought to life to remind us of the finite reach of individual influence. With viewing history’s leftovers comes the recognition that you are no more than an outsider unable to change what has already happened. Maybe it was spite that drove me to attend, some twisted idea that I was above that which I was looking down upon. This disdain lingered within every room of my isolated tour. Despite this, it wouldn’t be long until I was pulled back down to reality for a humbling experience. <a href="https://medium.com/@davidjwilsea/the-painting-hand-simultaneously-from-march-2023-7d7a4bd0c547">Read More</a>