Art/daily life

Why is it that the only Culture that seems to matter is the one that has broken free from biological responsibility, and exists in a shining, fragile, parasitic bubble. Why does Art have to be so dysfunctional?

So much of Art & Culture seems like the rage of caged animals at their confinement. Like gilding the bars of the cage. Or covering them with grafitti. The same cage that is closing in like a garbage crusher.

Beauty is free. That is one thing I know.

Things I like: the small acts of making by gentle but independent people, the cadences and melodies of daily life.

Everyday life, unfathomed yet. We don't even know how to eat in a way that is beautiful and respectful of the great world.