Make the familiar strange, and the strange familiar.
Adulthood is often a mere closing off of that sense of the miraculous that a child is naturally immersed in. Any man with a grain of sanity still left within him will seek to reverse the tides and regain some of what he has clearly lost. Regardless of whether he is sitting at his desk, strolling through the streets, or munching on a snack, there is a need to magnify his senses in order to reshape, renew and therefore enliven the tedium of his daily life. No stone must be left unturned in this effort to reorientate whatever he labels unconsciously in his mind as the usual, the typical, the accustomed, and the old. At the root of it all lies his sheer laziness to rise himself inside to a higher level of attention, to a vantage where the landscape below can take on ever new meanings and significance. It is not an optional pastime to perform like a hobby, but an urgent appeal to wake up before all of what a man sees, hears, feels, thinks, and senses turns into dried-out fossils.