As Long As Cameras Are Around No

One's Mind And The Earth Are In A Constant State Of Erosion, Mental Rivers Wear Away Abstract Banks, Brain Waves Undermine Cliffs Of Thought, Ideas Decompose Into Stones Of Unknowing, And Conceptual Crystallizations Break Apart Into Deposits Of Gritty Reason.

Artists Are Expected To Fit Into Fraudulent Categories.

A Vacant White Room With Lights Is Still A Submission To The Neutral. Works Of Art Seen In Such Spaces Seem To Be Going Through A Kind Of Esthetic Convalescence.

History Is Representational, While Time Is Abstract; Both Of These Artifices May Be Found In Museums, Where They Span Everybody's Own Vacancy

Artists Themselves Are Not Confined, But Their Output Is.