The mere thought of it makes an artist queasy.
Yet I believe it holds the key to unshackling Art in our minds.
The artist, continually falling in love with his own paint strokes, goes through great pains to appear nonchalant in his application. In reality, every daub is one step closer to the inevitable immobilization when there is nowhere to paint that won't destroy himself. He thoroughly binds his heart to the painting until it is all his. Nobody will love the painting like he does. He is staking his claim to Art. But Art is a spirit and not a painting. Art is not confined to our fantasies nor subject to our arrogant materializations. Art lays hold on us. Art takes us out on a limb in the nude while we sing what has never been sung before. And then we puff out our chests and say "I sang something new, I have the Art" Art just left, and all we need now is a small boy pointing "he doesn't have any clothes on!" This strong desire to possess Art blinds us from seeing her as a person. The same way we forget the earth is conscious. I suggest that the desires of Art herself have not been addressed and our aim is to work with her in order to discover them. This is the first collaboration.