Art is a raft. It will get you across to the shore. Once done, toss it in the past. It has strength no more.
Art is a river. One you never step in twice. Always changing hither and thither. Only that way is it fresh and nice.
Art is temporary. It has no staying power. Save for the space of an hour. Experience it thus gladly.
Art has rules. That is true. But those rules must accede to time's elasticity. And thus only retain their electricity.
Art is historical. Eye it with your monocle. Only loose not your footing. And become trapped in the well of your feverish sooting.
Art is... cynical, exploitative - Classical, romantic, hopeful.... Art is the truth that tells the lie, the backhanded slap that is also wry. Art is what you make it to be and what was all along. Art is... the very opposite of Bong.
Art is a Raft
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