Art Has The Lovely Habit Of Ruining

Since I Found That One Could Make A Case Shadow From A Three-dimensional Thing, Any Object Whatsoever - Just As The Projecting Of The Sun On The Earth Makes Two Dimensions - I Thought That By Simple Intellectual Analogy, The Fourth Dimension Could Project An Object Of Three Dimensions, Or, To Put It Another Way, Any Three-dimensional Object, Which We See Dispassionately, Is A Projection Of Something Four-dimensional, Something We Are Not Familiar With.

To All Appearances The Artist Acts Like A Mediumistic Being Who, From The Labyrinth Beyond Time And Space, Seeks His Way Out To A Clearing. If We Give The Attributes Of A Medium To The Artist, We Must Then Deny Him The State Of Consciousness On The Aesthetic Plane About What He Is Doing Or Why He Is Doing It. All This Decisions In The Artistic Execution Of The Work Rest With Pure Intuition And Cannot Be Translated Into A Self-analysis, Spoken Or Written, Or Even Thought Out.

Chess Players Are Madmen Of A Certain Quality, The Way The Artist Is Supposed To Be, And Isn't, In General.

Can One Make Works Which Are Not Works Of 'art'?

The Individual, Man As A Man, Man As A Brain, If You Like, Interests Me More Than What He Makes, Because I've Noticed That Most Artists Only Repeat Themselves.