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            <h1 class="title">Art</h1>
            

            
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        <section class="content prose"><p>Paul was writing in his diary about art.</p>
<p><em><a href="ouroboros_memory.html">This is my brain</a></em> he wrote. <em>This is my brain and all it contains. <a href="TODO_BIBLE_LINK">‘I contain multitudes’ said Legion.</a> I think it was Legion.</em> The big heading he had written at the top of the page (<em>ART</em> it read, but only when looking at it from his point of view) sat cold and alone, neglected in the <a href="sense-of-it.html">white space</a> surrounding it. He noticed this presently (but not after he had written a little more about multitudes), paused, frowned, and began to write again.</p>
<p><em>ART stands alone at the top of a blank page</em> he wrote. <em>It follows <del>itself in circles</del> its own footprints in a circle around its own name. It leads nowhere but is present everywhere. <del>It contains</del> It contains multitudes. Every painting ever made is a painting of every other painting. Every song is a remix, a <a href="music-433.html">cover version</a>.</em> He crossed out the part about songs for getting off topic. He made a note to himself in the margin—<em>Music is not ART.</em></p></section>
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