I had thought I departed the art world when at a VIP after after party attended by what appeared to be thousands seated on a field a man ate a live lobster it’s head in his mouth large body thrashing as the crowd enjoyed sautéed white asparagus as a main course I woke relieved it was dream I would say nightmare however the lobster consumption bordered on performance
wandering the web I found a book of poems by val kilmer. praise text on the webstore by cher, robert downey jr, and sean penn was all I had to read. fulfilled. Nudah Nudah
Time, in other words — particularly our experience of it as a continuity of successive moments — is a cognitive illusion rather than an inherent feature of the universe, a construction of human consciousness and perhaps the very hallmark of human consciousness.
The playing adult steps sideward into another reality; the playing child advances forward to new stages of mastery.
— Erik H. Erikson
Ritual grew up in sacred play; poetry was born in play and nourished on play; music and dancing were pure play.... We have to conclude, therefore, that civilization is, in its earliest phases, played. It does not come from play...it arises in and as play, and never leaves it.
— Johan Huizinga