A personal entry from a few months ago...

"I just returned from the art gallery where there is an exhibit of postmodern pieces. These pieces depict nothing but confusion, despair, incompletion, brokeness, all tinted with dark undertones of human sexuality and depictions of disharmonious nature. There were those combining circuit boards with fossils, characatures of mechanical dogs chewing on massochistic rabbit men, half-human, half-fish forms laying amongst pearls that look like eggs in a cave near a seashore, secret gardens, mechanical absurdity, broken teacups that sent a shiver of alert through me as they looked on the verge of toppling over, the longer I watched them the more anxious I became to straighten them up. This is the art of our time, art that reaks of abstraction and betrayl, mechanical uncertainty. One of the artists spoke of science as a religion, how it has invaded our lives, how it undermines every truth we ever seek to find. He looks to the past, as many postmodernists do, to see the absurdity of our times and of all time and of everything we were and have become and are to become. All of the pieces begged the question "Could this be real? If I can find meaning in this, musn't there be something going on inside me to lead to that meaning? And why can't I quite grasp the entirety of it?" And perhaps there I thought that the best art was done in pieces, a huge canvas that one cannot view from one single vantage point, but must be content to put together in their mind, leading to its innevitable corruption but at the same time lending to it an incredible, deific power. This art seems the perfect inspiration for my latest game idea. If it could be pulled off it would be a piece of art in itself. But that's a long way down the road, not as simple as putting a pen to the paper, cutting and pasting. It'll take several different elements, moving together in some unseen harmony. Will it have an ending, though? Will the world I create have the certainty these lost artists crave? Or will it be another of these paintings, incomplete, formless, a desperate attempt at conveying the meaningless conclusion of effort and thought? Human history grows, and as it grows it gets larger and larger, the pieces look more and more confusing with each passing decade, the picture always becoming more difficult to view clearly, no vantage point from which to encapsulate its reassuring enormity."