today in my english class there was a quote on the board, "art, like morality, consists in drawing the line somewhere" - gilbert k. chesterton. at first i thought "how very silly, you can't put limits on art or it's not art." but then the more i thought about it, the more i came to realize what could be if art truly had no borders. vicious decapitation. body ripped to bloody strips of flesh. eyes flung wide open in judgement. panting for air through red-smeared mouth, he stands with trembling hands, dripping with sweat and blood. cruel and twisted murder? or the ultimate expression of man's roiling passion, unbridled anger, god-like violence, basic animality and raw power? that one quote carelessly scrawled in sloping script across the chalkboard today has just changed the way i look at the world. even my own existence is amazing. i can feel my heart beating in my chest. there are infinite forces at work, so minute and specific that i can't wrap my mind around them, in the simple act of one heartbeat alone. sometimes i think about how everything i see is comprised of a loose organization of atoms and space and that i am too and it's almost too much to think about.