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It’s a small thing, isn’t it. A small, simple thing. A yellow balloon. In a white Eames chair. Against a blue wall. With a window.
It’s a small thing that becomes larger the more you look, more universal, more a part of the collective artistic consciousness. A simple thing that becomes more complex the more you look, more interconnected in more elaborate ways, more intricately linked together. The more you look the more it seems one thing, a single unit of four indivisible components—balloonchairwallwindow.
It’s a small, simple thing comprised of other small, simple things, each of which can be appreciated on its own, as itself. As a window, as a blue wall, as an Eames chair, as a yellow yellow yellow balloon. Together they coalesce into a different sort of simple, a composite simplicity, a simplicity with its own weird gravity holding everything together. That gravity draws in the eye and the eye gets trapped in orbit around a yellow balloon in a white Eames chair against a blue wall with a window.
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