CYAN

I’ve had a craving for powdered donuts a few days now.

I don’t know what the deal is.

Maybe I’m pregnant.

I bought a printer.

The last time I owned a printer was 17 years ago. I cackled as I threw it from the front porch into the dumpster, entirely sure I would never need to own another for any reason.

And yet…

The circumstances warrant it: I require physical output, and with print shops closed, I find myself considering where in my workspace this strange beast shall squat and churn forth thinly milled wood paste.

I also need to buy a new phone. There’s nothing wrong with the one I have, exactly, but I have an upgrade coming, apparently.

I’ve always been partial to the color cyan.

Such an open, clear color.

Time passes, now, and it’s much more difficult to sense it happening. Referencing ‘days’ has become obsolete, in the same way an hour refers to one temporal unit of measurement on Earth, and something else entirely on, say… Venus.

Instead I measure time by episodes/seasons watched, and the improvement of my cooking skills, which have recently leveled up.

The Netflix special: ‘Medici’, by the way, was fairly interesting. It could be slow, at times, and it’s heavy on politics, but if that isn’t too much of a turn-off, then it’s worth watching just to see another side to the Renaissance.

When we hear the era referenced, most of us think of artists creating great works of art, and advancements across of swathe of disciplines.

However, I’d never given the slightest thought to how it was possible.

I didn’t know of those behind the scenes, shaping history, and bankrolling all those men and women.

Personally, I feel the most important development that was made in that era was the use of perspective.

Prior to that, if you look back, depictions of any subject matter were comparatively crude, owing to the isometric approach artists took.

But that changed during the Renaissance.

I was taught to draw with perspective at a young age, and I can scarcely remember a time before it.

What recollections I do have are thanks to my mother, who saved several drawings of myself, as a donut, riding a bicycle.

No.

I’m not joking.

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