Monday, October 1, 2007

I wish I did, but I don't

create art.

Art that consists in looking that is, as opposed to
envisioning.

This afternoon I wandered in my jeans
and Adidas shirt amidst vintage clad beings;
I could not melt into the walls because the
warehouse was glowing: white: sterile:

a showroom for the books but illuminating
so much more.

::

Reading In Praise of Shadows (1933) by Jun'ichiro Tanizaki - among other things, explaining the reasons why modern appliances, white, white, white, do not fit harmoniously in Japanese rooms; the Western preoccupation with light, white, bright, sight.

The banishment of mystery.

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