The museums and parks are graveyards above the ground- congealed memories of the past that act as a pretext for reality.
Museums are tombs, and it looks like everything is turning into a museum.
A vacant white room with lights is still a submission to the neutral. Works of art seen in such spaces seem to be going through a kind of esthetic convalescence.
Nature does not proceed in a straight line, it is rather a sprawling development.
History is representational, while time is abstract; both of these artifices may be found in museums, where they span everybody's own vacancy.
Language thus becomes monumental because of the mutations of advertising.