Painting, sculpture and architecture are finished, but the art habit continues.

Museums are tombs, and it looks like everything is turning into a museum.

Parks are idealizations of nature, but nature in fact is not a condition of the ideal.

Banal words function as a feeble phenomena that fall into their own mental bogs of meaning.

The slurbs, urban sprawl, and the infinite number, of housing developments of the postwar boom have contributed to the architecture of entropy.

An emotion is suggested and demolished in one glance by certain words.

Artists are expected to fit into fraudulent categories.