Life is flawed

Life is flawed, its minutes and hours too long, its years and decades too short. We are left with a faint odor of the past, unable to even see clearly what we have already seen. The function of Art is to rebel against the tyranny of life, of memory, to invert the situation. A decade is condensed into a book of a few hundred pages, a lifetime is condensed into a film of a few hours, a literary movement into a painting that lies clearly before our eyes, the way life should be, but cannot be.

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