Without the internet and I went back to reading – a very interesting book by the American Harold Rosenberg, whose sensitivity to the visual artists in remarkable. I wish I had that depth of aesthetic. In the outage I worried about emails but did not miss them. Strange really. Now it is all repaired and back I realise how uncreative it has made me. I write more and think deeper without it. I am beginning to suspect it is a conspiracy to make us think we are connected to reality and have a broader appreciation of the world when all along it narrows our focus.
ironic.