New things come from old things. Treasures begin as trash. The present is embedded in the past, pushes it forward into a narrated future, connects us to the narratives that came before it. Speech is repurposed noise, writing is meaning made of marks–on stone, papyrus, parchment, paper, little glowing screens: words, the ultimate renewable resource, with which we make out of chaos, art out of life, and stories, stories, stories, from the trivial to the profound: internet clickbait, the epics of the Ancients.
Auguste Rodin (1840-1917)
Le Sommeil [Sleep]
Bust in terra cotta, plaster, wax, modeling clay and journal pages