Faced with the obvious and inevitable truth that art is not simply a commodity but a luxury item, artists persist in claiming lofty goals for their work. No other profession experiences such a jarring disconnect between callow apprenticeship and worldly ambition.
If painting is dead, then what am I doing? Despite its lofty ambitions, if abstraction inevitably degenerates into ornamentation, then why do I persist? When art is undermined by its commodification, why do I still consider myself a mystic? Dahlia Danton
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