Artists Are Expected To Fit Into Fraudulent

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.

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.

Parks Are Idealizations Of Nature, But Nature In Fact Is Not A Condition Of The Ideal.

A Camera Is Wild In Just About Anybody's Hands, Therefore One Must Set Limits. But Cameras Have A Life Of Their Own. Cameras Care Nothing About Cults Or Isms. They Are Indifferent Mechanical Eyes, Ready To Devour Anything In Sight. They Are Lenses Of The Unlimited Reproduction.

Mistakes And Dead-ends Often Mean More To These Artists Than Any Proven Problem