src/art.txt


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---
title: Art
genre: prose

project:
    title: "Buildings out of air: Paul in the Woods"
    css: paul
    order: 1
    next:
    - title: Hymnal
      link: hymnal
    - title: Axe
      link: axe
...

Paul was writing in his diary about art.

_This is my brain_ he wrote.  _This is my brain and all it contains.  'I
contain multitudes' said Legion.  I think it was Legion._  The big heading he
had written at the top of the page (_ART_ it read, but only when looking at it
from his point of view) sat cold and alone, neglected in the white space
surrounding it.  He noticed this presently (but not after he had written a
little more about multitudes), paused, frowned, and began to write again.

_ART stands alone at the top of a blank page_ he wrote.  _It follows ~~itself
in circles~~ its own footprints in a circle around its own name.  It leads
nowhere but is present everywhere. ~~It contains~~ It contains multitudes.
Every painting ever made is a painting of every other painting. Every song is
a remix, a cover version._  He crossed out the part about songs for getting
off topic.  He made a note to himself in the margin---_Music is not ART._