Belatedly, I learned from my No. 1 son about Werner Herzog’s last documentary film, “Cave of Forgotten Dreams” (2010). Exploring in no less than three dimensions the cave art of the Chauvet Cave in France, discovered in 1994, which goes back more than thirty-thousand years, the film is apparently oblivious of my book, Cave Art Now (2003). To wit, the dreams of Chauvet are not forgotten. Far from it. They are very much alive in the work of Mondrian, Kandinsky, and Malevich. As well as my own work, it goes without saying. In fact, these dreams cannot be forgotten. They are a part of us already. Forever. If Herzog and his team only explored the World Wide Web a bit more thoroughly. Alas!

Addendum (September 22, 2016)

Long ago, Herzog’s name was close to my heart. A few of his movies I happened to have seen were rather to my taste. But his movie about cave art changed all that (“Werner Herzog and I, Again,” March 1, 2012). I was appalled, no less. The fact that he failed to respond to my two missives sent to him via the feedback function on his website sealed our relationship. The last time I came across his name, though, I could not recognize his face (“So-Called Stars,” September 17, 2016). It struck me as surprisingly old and ugly. In retrospect, I think of him as a former friend, and I have quite of few friends of this ilk by now. If only we had never met, as it were. And on the pages of my magnum opus, of all places.