I get used to it so it's not special anymore

However beautiful an object is, a repeated exposed to said beauty would dilute the appreciation. Once the object has become a fixture of the subject’s environment, aesthetics considerations are lost.

I used to live on the 14th floor of a student dorm in Odaiba. The dorm is a tall building surrounded by parks in the middle of basically nothing. Odaiba isn’t exactly a residential area, nor it is a business complex. The Tokyo Bay, especially along the Oi Wharf, is visible from the large window that spanned the entire balcony of my dorm room. The light from the bay reflects like gemstones in the morning, the color of the sunset rests on the surface at dusk, and at night the lights from the buildings in Shinagawa glimmer. Occasionally ships pass in front of this view blasting their horns.

The view always hooked anyone who entered this room for the first time. “Your room got such a nice view,” was always the thing that guests pointed out. I shared the appreciation. I would turn off the lights at night just so I could stare at the view, during the day I’d pull a chair out into the balcony so I could look at the endless expanse where sometimes the white-tipped Fuji would be visible during clear days.

However, at some point after years of residence in the same room, I stopped doing that. The view didn’t change, still as wonderful as it was the first time. I changed. My perception of the view had changed. The view was not the long descriptive scene any longer; it has reduced its presence into a wallpaper on the far side of my dorm room.

I am not saying that the view has lost its aesthetic value but rather the view has become a part of my common sense. I don’t aesthetically evaluate an aspect of my common sense. The common sense is essential to ground me. To regain appreciation of the same view, either the object itself has to change, or the viewer has to change. A landscape doesn’t change much, so I’m the one required to change. A new lens has to be introduced so that the scene becomes fresh. I could look at it from the lower levels of the dorm, I could ask someone else what they find great about the view, or I could leave the place for years to forget it.

This applies to anything that relies on the senses. If someone wants to keep that feeling of wonder then they have to exercise moderation. Nursing the taste, taking it sip by sip. Be it nature, food, music, or even people.