Our minds can trick us into thinking that these pleasurable actions and states should be reserved for vacations, or times when we don't have anything else we "could" or "should" be doing.
You are confronted by a female undressing, thinking you may see something pleasurable, then see a grotesque growth, and immediately find your pleasure disrupted, and turned to disgust.
Art is not only a pleasurable icing on the cake; it is also a way of thinking and a practice of working innovatively with reality that can inspire us all to do better.
Thinking about this experience later, I was reminded of what is so pleasurable about the experience of a great work of art: For a brief moment, it allows you to forget where you are and be transported to another time and place.
The other thing I was thinking — well, feeling, really — was that this was an actual experience, and a pleasurable one (and even legal!), in the place of that boxed-in, confined, camera-on-you sensation that comes with driving most motorways these days.
It will be painful, as it involves thinking about media as something sustainable, local and (hardest of all for hard-bitten hacks) pleasurable.
This consciousness of language, of purposefully and deliberately thinking about the words we put into the world, becomes at times both painful and pleasurable.
I suppose I approach a title that I know has been labelled as Y.A. thinking that it's going to be a more relaxing reading experience — maybe relaxing isn't the right word, but more pleasurable, perhaps — because I don't expect to encounter things that will frustrate the reading process, the way I might in the work of Pynchon, say.
I suppose I approach a title that I know has been labelled as Y.A. thinking that it's going to be a more relaxing reading experience maybe relaxing isn't the right word, but more pleasurable, perhaps because I don't expect to encounter things that will frustrate the reading process, the way I might in the work of Pynchon, say.
In time, this, too, would no longer seem especially voguish — soon just about every schnook with a microphone would be asking the day's goat, "What were you thinking when you missed that ball?" — but for the moment the Chipmunks were the coming wave and Cannon's purple sentences, once so pleasurable, were beginning to feel less vibrant, a little antiquated.
