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Wednesday, 2 July 2014

Art is...

...a dream in which you're reunited with your parents. You hug them and tell them how much you love them - say all the things you couldn't tell them while they were alive. And when you wake up, you feel cleansed and flushed with well-being and it was as if they were really there and you really did hug them and tell them that you loved them and said all the things you wished you'd said to them when they were alive.

Only they weren't.

And you didn't.

And when you die, all that will linger of that dream you had is this.


  1. Fortunately mine are still alive, but I should tell them more than I do.

  2. I posted a comment here two days ago which elaborated on (among other things) how Art is more than just Paul Simon's old musical collaborator. But the internet must have deemed it unworthy and devoured it. Artistic licence, I guess. I hope your profound thoughts linger here forever, Bob.