Nothing in the world of phenomenal reality is permanent, not
the shape of a mountain nor life itself. We all know that. So maybe we should
go into every art gallery in all of the world and destroy everything we find
there. Maybe art is only art as long as it’s being created. Once the painting
or sculpture is finished, maybe it becomes a stagnant thing ready for
destruction. Maybe our obsession with conservation derives from a pointless
longing for unattainable permanence; maybe it’s one of the things that trap us
in the illusion. Maybe.
We won’t, of course, and neither should we. Or should we?
There are many reasons for not doing it, but it would teach us a lesson, wouldn’t
it? It’s what the Buddhists do with their sand pictures.
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