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It’s okay not to care about art.
Most people don’t — and that’s part of the picture.

It all started with a piece of tree, just for me.
 Then I dug for a reason and found something that looked like a carrot. I used it as a maraca. No mystery involved: just solitude and Ikea, which reminds me of home.
An old TV set on the street shows a candy wrapper drifting in a puddle.
 “I have of late—but wherefore I know not—lost all my mirth,” and I played Tetris with what was left of a boar’s skull.
On the 8th of February, I found long-forgotten video files I had made in Rome about two years ago. This evening walk took me 2 minutes and 12 seconds.
The next day, I went to the sea with a friend. We watched the waves. Ikea finally arrived, and I rearranged my home: I embroidered an old napkin with new Ikea flowers, made an artist’s book from Ikea labels, and threw away one and three ugly chairs only to film some other old chairs the next day.
I put on my blue jeans, took a book with a blue cover, and went to the sea. There I found a piece of blue fishing net and it danced on my knees. I remembered how last summer I swam to a remote beach and played with plastic rubbish there.
I didn’t pick up, and didn’t eat, a juicy orange I found in the street. Instead, I filmed it. It looks sexy to me. I followed the prompt and gave my solitude a flower.
I played on the beach and built something that looks like a ritual sculpture, with fairy wings on top. Do I have dreams? It keeps raining. The weather has been so bad lately that even a cactus needed fixing.
It’s okay not to care about art. Most people don’t. And that’s part of the picture. Nothing here needs fixing.
Strings of lights hang from a degraded reed roof in an abandoned beach bar. Let’s skip. I got up early and biked to the vending machines for an energy drink. Not for me. There I met a woman known around town for her eccentric behaviour and gave her fifty cents.
I made an animation with two pieces of driftwood dancing. It looks sexy to me, like the smoking lion I met in Cosenza.
My hands danced on the sand, and hail danced on my balcony. I wish I was someone else. But not the velella, for sure. The sea is a good example of the world’s indifference.