Language Should Find Itself In The Physical

Cultural Confinement Takes Place When A Curator Imposes His Own Limits On An Art Exhibition, Rather Than Asking An Artist To Set His Limits.

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.

Some Artists Imagine They've Got A Hold On This Apparatus, Which In Fact Has Got A Hold Of Them. As A Result, They End Up Supporting A Cultural Prison That Is Out Of Their Control

As Long As Cameras Are Around No Artist Will Be Free Of Bewilderment.

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.