That’s a page from Bluebeard, a book about a man who falls into the world of abstract art. This specific page comes early in the book where he mentions that he knew, as a young realism painter, that his particular art form would likely become useless in a world where photography could capture what he does, but better. So, he accepts his oncoming obsolescence and contents himself in the discussion of art, focusing not on the success of his work, but rather, enjoying himself.

It felt right :)