What you’re looking at is arguably, the
most famous photograph in history. An image that has been seen by billions of
people from all over the world. Yet this photograph wasn’t hung in a museum
or an art gallery in the middle of a bustling city. It was in our homes… our offices… our
libraries… it was seemingly everywhere. This is Bliss: the default desktop
wallpaper used in Windows XP. The operating system released by Microsoft
in 2001 to critical acclaim. And yet, when you think of iconic and famous photographs,
this one probably doesn’t come to mind at all. That’s the funny thing about default wallpapers:
they were essentially designed to be forgotten. Looked at once, and then replaced with a family
portrait, or a photo you took yourself. And that’s the purpose Bliss served for
the vast majority of Windows XP users. But gazing upon it today can instantly
resuscitate memories from a time gone by. An era where many began using
computers for the very first time. That feeling of eagerness as you waited for
your new computer to finish booting up, so you could begin to explore this wide, vast,
new world of Windows that would carry you through most of the 2000s,
possibly even years after. And it complements XP’s
refreshed visual style perfectly. The green hills bring out the newly designed
start button, and the blue sky sits nicely behind the darker blue border
around every window you open up. The clouds paid homage to that Windows version
from years past that laid much of the groundwork for XP’s success. It’s so picture perfect that you almost have
to believe it was something commissioned directly by Microsoft. Or was it even a real photograph at all? These are questions that
most XP users never asked. That’s the dichotomy of Bliss: it was so
widespread that it became quite easy to forget it was even there. After a while, it just blended in. It became the wallpaper of life. Sitting there in the background as we navigated
through school, work, or just an evening playing Space Cadet Pinball. Still, it would be strange not to see that
familiar green hill and blue sky when logging into a newly installed copy of Windows XP. But that almost happened. You see, Bliss wasn’t created in an office
building somewhere in Redmond. It was a real photograph, taken long
before Windows XP even existed. And the story of Bliss is a
story filled with serendipity. A story of one man who, by pure spontaneity,
found himself stopping on the side of the road after a storm passed by to
capture a field of green on film. He didn’t know it at the time but that Friday
afternoon in January 1996 would prove monumental in his career as a photographer. Because it would result in his most
successful photograph of all time. One that would eventually end up
on millions of computer screens. Twenty years ago, those computer screens
began to say “Windows XP”, as the operating system was released to retail
stores in October of 2001. Which meant that Bliss slowly made its way
into the lives of Windows users everywhere. But I’d be getting ahead of myself if I
said the story began there. The story of Bliss is directly intertwined
with the story of its photographer, Charles O’Rear. A man who would find himself working in the
photography scene for most of his career. Even though he wanted to be an airline pilot
when he was younger, he would instead find himself riding back in economy with
a camera for months at a time. And if photography was the fuel that enabled
his career to take off, journalism was the truck that delivered it. Thanks to his mother’s work in the field,
he developed a sense of curiosity in reporting and writing at a very young age. When he was 13, he wrote an article that
was published in the local newspaper. Certainly an impressive
accomplishment for a young teenager. One that, undoubtedly, inspired him to
continue in his mother’s footsteps. Throughout his high school years, he
worked as a sports reporter. Before his interests naturally
began to evolve into photography. He remembered thinking: So in 1960, while attending college in Emporia,
Kansas, he applied for a photographer position at the Emporia Gazette, the
city’s local newspaper. And he got it! He was only there for a short while though,
as his post college years took him back to the Kansas City area, until the late ‘60s
when he made a pretty big life change. Moving almost 2,000 miles away from the town
he knew, to the buzzing city of Los Angeles. Even bigger though was the career move, as
he began working as a staff photographer for the Los Angeles Times. A position he would grow increasingly dissatisfied with over the course of his 2 year stint with the paper. This “miserable” job, as he later described
it, just wasn’t all it was cut out to be, and by the early ‘70s, O’Rear was
looking to make another change. So he took a leap of faith to escape the 9-to-5 life and become self-employed as a freelance photographer. In 1971, that decision really paid off, as
he began taking photos for National Geographic. He landed the gig by proposing a story idea
to the publication, and they were willing to take a chance on him. Next thing he knew, he was on a plane to Alaska
to spend 6 months working on a story about a Russian religious group in
the area called The Old Believers. The story, along with his accompanying photographs
were published in the September 1972 issue of the magazine. And just like that, this 30 year old Missori-native
was officially a published photographer in one of the world's largest magazines. His future was bright. But what would he do next? You see, National Geographic doesn’t actually
hire the vast majority of their photographers. They’re all freelancers, and are only contracted
to work for the magazine for a set period of time. Luckily for O’Rear, National Geographic
was evidently very pleased with his work, and would continue asking him to
go out on various assignments. This pattern persisted for the next 25 years,
during which O’Rear traveled around the world for Nat Geo, living out of
a suitcase most of the time. His career took him from cost to cost in the United States and to no fewer than 30 foriegn countries. But the destination that made a lasting impact
on not only his career, but also in his personal life, wasn’t Indonesia, Africa,
Mexico, or Canada. It was a quiet region in California. West of Sacramento. 50 miles inland from the Pacific Ocean. Known as Napa Valley. It stands in sharp contrast to the
bustling city of San Francisco that sits just 60 miles south. In Napa Valley, the roads are smaller and the views, larger. Surrounded by green hills that form one
of America’s primest wine regions. An area renowned for its dry summer climate that
makes it an ideal spot for growing wine grapes. In the 1970’s though, the area wasn’t
as widely known as it is today. Napa Valley wasn’t designated as an
American Viticultural Area until 1981. But Charles O’Rear found himself checking
into one of the area’s few hotels in 1972, when National Geographic sent him there for
his second work assignment spanning 3 months. And by 3 months, I mean 1 week. Because it turns out that not even National
Geographic knew exactly what Napa Valley was. Although O’Rear was approved to travel
there, once the head editor of the magazine returned from an out of country trip and
inquired about this “Napa Valley'' assignment, he was quite surprised. And not in a good way. You see, at the time National Geographic had
a strict “no alcohol in our magazine” rule. And, I’m sure you can see how a place
known for producing wine doesn’t exactly fit that bill. So O’Rear’s dive into Winemaking
Photography was put on hold and he was sent down to Mexico instead. Not before having to break the bad news to
the hotel he arranged to stay at that he was leaving a little sooner than expected. Then it was off to Acapulco, just about 5
hours south of Mexico City, to work for the next 6 months on a story that would be published
in the November 1973 issue of the magazine. O’Rear continued to work for National Geographic
throughout the 1970s and ‘80s, and garnered a bit of popularity in the photography scene. He was even featured on the cover of the magazine twice. which is quite rare for the person
usually taking the cover photos. By the time 1978 rolled around, doing
a story on Napa Valley was finally within the realm of possibilities, after the magazine became a bit more open to
featuring alcohol-related content. The May 1979 issue had a story
about the area and its claim to fame which featured many of O’Rear’s photographs. But this time around he didn’t stay in Napa
Valley for just a few months. He became entranced with winemaking photography. Plus, he loved the area. He found the locals very welcoming. In fact, he said that out of all the areas
in the world he had visited by that point, he had never felt welcomed as much as he was
in Napa Valley. It seemed like the perfect place to make home. So after renting an apartment for a while,
he purchased a condominium and later a single family home in nearby St. Helena. A decision that would set in motion
the events that lead to the creation of Bliss almost 2 decades later. On a Friday afternoon in January 1996, O’Rear was on his way to
San Francisco to visit his girlfriend. A trip that he made every single week. Nothing special. Just a 60 mile drive on a typical winter day. Though... there really isn’t
anything typical about photography. It’s one of those fields
with a sense of uncertainty. You never truly know exactly where
your next photo is going to come from. It requires you to constantly be in the mindset
of looking for the next opportunity to seize. As he was driving down an old country road
in Sonoma County, he looked to his right to see a green hillside situated perfectly in front
of a bright blue sky filled with white clouds. It was a hill he had seen numerous
times before, but this was different. For years, the hill, like so many large pieces
of property in the area, was used as a vineyard. That is, until sometime in the 1990s when
a phylloxera infestation ravaged the area. Wine grapes grown in the field couldn’t
be used anymore, and the entire vineyard was eventually ripped from the hill. Over time, green grass grew freely
until the entire hill was covered with it. It’s rather ironic isn't it? That a pest infestation could be
the cause of such a beautiful scene? That day, the grass was looking particularly
greener than usual, as a rainstorm had passed through the area, and the sun was
hitting the hill at just the right angle. For O’Rear, it was just the kind
of scene he was looking for. So he pulled off to the side of the road,
got out his camera, and snapped a few shots. (camera shutter) 4 in total. 2 horizontal and 2 vertical. Each one at different settings
and situated at different angles. Then he packed everything up, got back in
his car, and went on his way to San Francisco. The entire encounter lasted
for only a couple of minutes. To O’Rear, it was just another set of photographs. Perhaps only a few of the
many he took that day. Little did he know, that brief moment on the
side of California State Route 12 would later catch the interest of the largest
software developer on the planet. Situated 800 miles away in Redmond, Washington. (music) In the mid ‘90s, Microsoft was on top of
the world, and right off the heels of the biggest launch event in the company’s history. Windows 95 was no doubt a groundbreaking
release of the operating system. It’s focus on user interface improvements
made it far easier to use for novice users. And it introduced the Start Menu and Taskbar
for the first time, UI elements that would be inseparable from the OS for years to come. Until Microsoft had their midlife crisis with
Windows 8, but that is a topic I’ve covered in another video. While Windows 95 was huge for the company,
I think it's fair to say that Windows XP, in many respects, was an even bigger deal. Its release in 2001 marked the end of the
MS-DOS days, as all XP releases were based on the firm foundation of Windows NT. It also simplified Microsoft’s product line,
opting to have Home and Professional editions rather than 2 separate releases. More than that, it was the first time since
Windows 95 that the operating system got a fresh new coat of paint. Ok sure, Windows 2000 and Me technically
updated the UI as well, but it wasn’t nearly as significant as the introduction of XP’s Luna theme. The color scheme that you’ll find on the
taskbar, start button, and windows. And at the center of it all is Bliss. This was a first for Windows. Using a real, full color photograph as the default wallpaper. Now there were prior versions of Windows that
included photographs that could be set as the wallpaper, but all of them used a simple
solid color as the default background. This change was intentional. And it was a part of a broader change in design
philosophy that Microsoft implemented in XP. When you put XP’s desktop up against the previous
5 Windows releases, it strongly stands out. At first glance, all of these
desktops look exactly the same. A solid color background, with a gray taskbar,
and the same Windows logo on the start button. Every visual aspect of XP was meticulously
designed to foster a more welcoming user experience, while also providing a sense of
familiarity for seasoned users. It made sense for Microsoft to incorporate
a default wallpaper that both celebrated the past. And looked enthusiastically towards the future. So how on Earth did they find this? Around the time Bliss was taken, Charles O’Rear
had moved on from National Geographic, and was active in the Winemaking photography scene. Like many of the photos he took around that
time, Bliss was made available for licensing through Westlight, a company that
O’Rear co-founded with Craig Aurness, a fellow NatGeo photographer. Fun fact: this sample photo seen in a few
Whistler builds was taken by him. By 1998, Westlight’s collection had amassed
over 3 million images, including some of O’Rear’s and Aurness’s. That caught the attention of a much larger
stock photo licensor: Corbis, who decided to purchase Westlight that year. And this is where things get very interesting. You see, Corbis wasn’t just any stock photo licensor. It was a stock photo licensor owned by Bill Gates. And thanks to him being the sole source of
funding, Corbis essentially had a blank check to buy up various companies and
photo libraries like Westlight. So whenever Bill Gates’s other company needed
a stock image for something, say a desktop wallpaper, they made sure to check Corbis first. And thanks to their digitalization of the
best-selling Westlight images, Bliss, or rather, as it was originally known, was
now just a quick search away. In total, 31 wallpapers shipped with Windows XP. Some real photographs, some rendered designs,
and some more recognisable than others. What they all have in common is any of them
could have been XP’s default wallpaper. And in fact, one originally was. Throughout its development process, Windows
XP’s default wallpaper changed several times. In total, 4 images were used as the default
wallpaper in various development builds: Very early builds didn’t have a wallpaper
at all, and used a solid blue background just like Windows 2000. Professional was likely a placeholder wallpaper,
judging from the inclusion of XP’s codename at the top left. Very fitting for builds that included the
placeholder Watercolor theme as well. The other 3 were shipped in the final release. Windows XP is the branding wallpaper, which
differs slightly depending on which edition you have installed. Bliss is… well Bliss. And for the only other real photograph ever
used as an XP default wallpaper: Red moon desert. Fittingly, it was also taken by Charles O’Rear
when he was on a trip to South Africa. It’s got another thing in common too:
multiple variants of the photo exist. What makes this image different from Bliss
is not only the location, subject, and scene, but the fact that it's actually
2 images composited together. Despite these 2 variants of the photo
being taken in roughly the same spot, the Moon is not in the same place. More than that, it’s actually rotated 180 degrees. A pretty big giveaway. There’s also this version of the wallpaper
that is quite clearly a composite, as it looks exactly like Red moon desert
just with a daytime sky. The shadows on the left side are unmodified. This is where Bliss really stands out, as
the original version of the image was not modified whatsoever. For years though, many have speculated that
Microsoft made a couple of small modifications to the photo: adjusting the
saturation, and cropping it. Those changes were made, but it turns out
that they were done by Corbis instead, when they originally digitized O’Rear’s photo. This is evident in the version of Bliss we
can find on this Corbis Library CD from 1998, before Microsoft purchased it. So which one of these was originally
intended to be the default wallpaper? For many years, the general
consensus was Red moon desert. This conclusion was based on a 2003 blog post
from Microsoft employee Raymond Chen, where he describes people’s feelings about the
wallpaper during testing which prompted a change However, during my research I started to really
wonder if this was completely the case. Raymond doesn’t specify the word “default”
and instead says that it was XP’s “original wallpaper.” It seems to imply the “original default wallpaper”,
but perhaps there’s more to the story One thing kept coming back to me that I couldn’t ignore. After installing every single development
build we have access to, I compiled a spreadsheet with not only what the default wallpaper was,
but also what additional wallpapers were included. Ignoring the solid blue background used in
early Beta 1 builds and a handful of later ones, XP’s default wallpaper changed
4 times throughout development. Professional to Red Moon Desert. Red Moon Desert to Bliss. Bliss to Windows XP. And finally, Windows XP back to Bliss. Looking at this data on its own can lead one
to believe the Bliss wasn’t chosen as the default wallpaper until the tail end of development. Release Candidate 1 to be specific. It isn’t completely clear why the wallpaper switched
to Windows XP for 15 builds in RC 1 and 2. Maybe they had second thoughts about using Bliss? Although Bliss wasn’t made the default wallpaper
until RC 1, it was included with Build 2419, a Beta 2 build from January of 2001. What’s even more interesting, and the reason
I began to question this consensus in the first place, is what we saw revealed
at Microsoft’s CES 2001 keynote. While the formal introduction of the Xbox
took most of the spotlight that day, Microsoft also demoed a beta build of XP. A build that still remains
unleaked to this day: 2415. Compiled on January 2nd, 2001. This demo was the very first time the Luna
theme was demonstrated publicly. And you know what wallpaper
was used to go along with it? Bliss. Now this isn’t confirmation that it was
the default wallpaper, but it is the earliest build to include the image at all. With the exception of 2416.1, compiled
2 days later, every build since (that we have access to) includes Bliss, even if it wasn’t
as the default wallpaper. So this raises a couple of questions. If Microsoft had intended to use Red moon desert
all along, why would they use Bliss for this demo? And if Bliss was in fact intended to be the
default originally, why did they change the wallpaper twice before it reappeared
as the default in RC 1? I think there’s compelling evidence to suggest
that Bliss was always going to be the default, ever since that CES Keynote. Maybe I’m wrong. But there is one last piece of information
that solidifies this theory: Unlike every other wallpaper included in XP, Microsoft
didn’t just license Bliss from O’Rear and Corbis. They wanted to own it outright. After receiving a phone call sometime between
1998 and 2001, Charles O’Rear signed on the dotted line, selling the full ownership
rights to Bucolic Green Hills to Microsoft. Along with it went this vertical frame of the
same hill, which was never included with XP. As O’Rear signed an NDA, he is prevented
from disclosing the actual purchase price. But many have estimated the
value to be at least $100,000. In fact, the value was so high that O’Rear
couldn’t get any shipping carrier to send the image off. Microsoft actually had to buy a plane ticket
so that O’Rear could travel to Redmond in person and hand off the original negatives. “I had no idea where it was going to go.” he thought to himself. Having a photograph of yours purchased by
the largest software company in the world must be an eerie feeling. What was it about this image? Why did they opt to buy it outright
instead of just licensing it? Well the answer is simple: marketing. Bliss was more than XP’s default wallpaper. It was a central component of the
operating system’s branding. You could see it in TV ads, on Microsoft’s
web site, on promotional materials, even at the launch event for Windows XP in New York City. Microsoft went through many proposed
designs for every one of XP’s assets. Eventually deciding on the iconic
logo that we know today. It’s possible that the same thing happened
with Bliss, which would explain the various wallpaper changes throughout development. However, the fact that Microsoft acquired
the full rights to the photo contradicts this. They would have only done this if they knew
they were going to make Bliss a central aspect of the operating system’s branding, to the
point where they wouldn’t want anyone else to be able to use it. It just wouldn’t make sense to
purchase it outright otherwise. As I mentioned earlier, there were 31
wallpapers included with Windows XP. About half of those were real photographs,
most of them also being renamed Corbis images. With the exception of Bliss, they were all
used by Microsoft under standard licensing agreements, either Rights-managed, or Royalty-free. Royalty-free is often interpreted as meaning
“completely free”, but this isn’t the case at all. It simply means that acquiring a license to
use the image comes with very few restrictions on how you’re allowed to use it. Royalty-payments to the photographer
for each use are not required. Autumn was one of these images. Taken by Peter Burian in 1999 near Hamilton,
Ontario, and originally named Autumn Leaves. Microsoft paid just $300 to use this image
in XP, of which Burian received $45. That’s an enormous price difference, and
for people unfamiliar with stock photo licenses, it can seem like Microsoft cheated
Burian out of a lot of money. With one commenter even accusing him of
“not knowing the business.” A pretty bold claim to make by somebody who
clearly doesn’t know anything about the stock photography business. Getting one of your stock photos purchased
outright is rare, and it's likely that Burian never would have made any
money on it if he tried to do so. Although royalty-free images make far less
money on a single purchase, the loose restrictions of the license are far more attractive, so
the potential for multiple sales to be made is much greater. Burain knew this, and that’s why he chose
to license the photo the way he did. He estimates that he made about $500 on this
image alone while it was on Corbis. Not bad! Where was Bliss taken? Was it photoshopped? Those are questions that we’ve already answered,
but after XP’s release in October of 2001, they began to slowly come up from curious users. Suspected locations of the hill ranged from
Portugal to Ireland to Washington State. Even Microsoft wasn’t completely
sure where it was taken. So they asked O’Rear, and
he set the record straight. Revealing the true location of the hill and
the fact that he didn’t alter the photo in any way. But for most of the world, myself included,
these questions never crossed our minds. As I said earlier in this video, Bliss has
been seen practically everywhere by so many people to the point where unless you’re
actively looking for it, it can easily go unnoticed. I remember the first time I heard the story. It was an average Friday afternoon in April of 2014. Microsoft had recently killed off support
for Windows XP, a topic that was heavily on the minds of the tech community. When I came across this YouTube video, interestingly
uploaded by Microsoft’s Netherlands division. It was a brief interview with a guy named Charles O’Rear that told this amazing story of how this
place in this image was actually real. The video touched on the bullet points: How
he found the hill, when he took the photo, how he had to fly to Redmond to hand off the negatives. I remember sitting there in awe. This image had been in front of my face for
so long, yet I never thought that there could be a whole story behind it. The moment O’Rear revealed that the image
was a real photograph, I opened a new tab and searched around for the coordinates. And sure enough, I found them. I knew right then and there that I
had to see this place in person. So I opened a text document, pasted the
coordinates in, and wrote a note to myself: “one day…” That day is finally here. The hill is about an hour north of the San
Francisco Airport, located right on the side of California State Route 12. Somebody even made it a tourist
attraction on Google Maps. 4.7 Stars! And they’re open 24 hours! Sounds like my kinda place. Having never been to California before, it
was pretty neat to drive through the Bay Area and across the Golden Gate Bridge for the first time. There’s just so much tech history here, with
Silicon Valley being a stone’s throw away. My drive ended up taking 2 hours because, well… California. I knew I was getting close when I ended up
on a windy 2 lane road, looking ahead at the large hills that filled the area. Route 12 is an east-west road that runs
from San Andreas to Santa Rosa. Without traffic, it would take you 3 hours
to drive the 133 miles from end to end. Bliss is situated almost one third of the
way in, if you were starting from Santa Rosa. And according to Charles O’Rear, it's off of one
of the most dangerous portions of the route. Stopping my car on the side of a 2 lane windy,
shoulderless road with a speed limit of 55 MPH isn’t… ideal. Even though I was here on a Sunday afternoon,
my plan was to park at this barbecue restaurant half a mile away and finish the journey on foot. The final moments of this journey
were by far the most memorable. After 7 and a half years of waiting, now I
found myself only a few steps away from finally seeing Bliss in person. Something about slowly walking towards it felt fitting to me. Almost as if it was a reminder that this voyage
didn’t begin on a plane ride to San Francisco, or even when I first discovered Bliss was a real place. But instead, 2 decades ago when it first
appeared on my computer monitor. Back then, I didn’t think anything of it. This time, it had my full attention. After a few minutes, I came to a stop... looked to my left.... And there it was. (music) I must admit, it took a few moments for the
sense of surrealness to set in. Here I was standing in the exact same spot
where Charles O’Rear himself stood on that day those many years ago. Sure, the view isn’t exactly the same as
it was back then, as the hill became a vineyard again sometime after Bliss was taken. But I couldn’t help but ponder how the only
reason I’m standing here, the only reason you’re watching this video all stems from a single decision. To spontaneously stop the car and get out
a camera to capture what was at that time, just another hill in the valley. They often say a picture says a thousand words,
but I think this one tells an entire life story. Dots that had to connect so precisely for O’Rear
to even have the opportunity to take this photo. It would’ve been far easier for him
just to keep on driving that day. And if he did, this hill would
have no significance to any of us. The decision to pull over was made in a split
second, but the effects of it would define his legacy forever. After I captured the footage I needed for
this video, it was time to get back to my rental car. But as I was walking away, I realized something
extraordinary about what I just witnessed. Here’s the site of the most viewed photograph in the world. With no line to wait in, no fee to pay. Just another vineyard on the side of a highway. I had to wonder if anybody driving by that
day knew the significance of this place. They’ve surely seen it before. Maybe they even wondered about the origins of it. And yet, here it sits. Undisturbed, hidden in plain sight. Much like the image itself. O’Rear has been rather modest about the whole thing. He’s said a few times that he didn’t “create”
Biss, he just happened to be in the right place at the right time and documented it. I think he deserves a bit more credit than that. In an age where all of us carry a camera around
in our pockets everywhere we go, it can be hard to remember a time when taking a photo
wasn’t something you did on a whim. It required an understanding of not only how
cameras work, but also how the changes you make to the ISO, aperture, shutter speed,
lens, and film affect the outcome of the image. Now this is all true today if you want to
pursue photography as a profession, but before the advent of the digital camera, there was
no way to see how your photos turned out prior to developing the film. You had to have an eye and a feeling
for what the right settings should be. O’Rear’s experience as a professional
photographer was vital to the creation of Bliss. Even though the image was taken spontaneously,
O’Rear was prepared for a photo opportunity due to the weather conditions that day. He knew how the aftermath of a rainstorm
affected the landscapes in the area. So he brought along a medium format Mamiya
RZ67 camera, loaded with Fujichrome Velvia. Popular for its level of saturation
and vibrant color reproduction. He knew how he wanted the image to look in
his mind, and configured the settings on his camera accordingly. If any one of these variables was changed, even ever so slightly, Bliss would not have turned out like it did. O’Rear has said a few times that he finds
it ironic that he will be remembered most for a serendipitous photograph, instead of
his 25 year-long career with National Geographic. But sometimes, the most spontaneous things
in life are what we remember most. In 2014, Microsoft dropped support for Windows
XP, and it became yet another tombstone in the graveyard of computing. And for the most part, Bliss went along with it. Sure you may see it here and there nowadays,
but it's nowhere near how popular it used to be. It’s an understatement to say that
the tech world moves fast. I’m sure if you told people in 1981 that
in 20 years they’d be able to display a full color, high quality photograph on their computer screen, they’d all say you’re crazy. And… maybe this project is crazy. Maybe this entire journey, traveling all this
way just to see a boring hill on the side of the road was a waste of time. Perhaps that’s what you were thinking
throughout this entire portion of the video. But I don’t think so. Seeing Bliss in person was an incredible experience for me. Almost as if I was revising a part of my life
that I thought I could never return to. That’s the fascinating thing about art. No 2 people in the world look at this
and think exactly the same thing. Our memories and experiences shape
our perception of the images we see everyday. A photo that brings joyful memories to one,
may bring painful memories to another. Every photograph carries with it an immeasurable
amount of feelings and emotions to all who gaze upon it. To me, Bliss represents an era that I cherish fondly. The memories of being obsessed with making home movies. Gradually discovering my passion that I’m
now fountenate enough to call a full time job. I made my very first videos on Windows XP. I remember the first camera I used, and the
people I made those videos with. That initial spark that made every single
upload on this channel possible. So maybe for you, Bliss is nothing more than
a desktop wallpaper that people made funny memes out of. And that’s ok. Whatever the case may be, one thing’s for
sure: there will eventually come a day where all of us, without knowing it, will gaze upon
this image for the very last time. Would we even remember the significance of it? Or will it be reduced to just another faded
Polaroid on the wall in our minds. Seen by billions, but remembered by few. The most famous photograph in the world probably
isn't going to end up in the history books. But it will outlive every single one of us. And I’d like to think that someday, far into the future. An unsuspecting person will come across it. And just looking at it, will fill them with
that same feeling we experienced when we first saw it those many years ago. That sense of… well... I guess it's all in the name.
