Sirs, the obvious muse of this beloved blog is absent, and so is the beauty and life that he carries around with him. At the very least, this, a quote about art, and the chasing after of it, and the never being full of it, and the hunger for life and beauty and truth that we'll feeling in our bellies, forever, or until the acid rains wash it away.
'"I could never find the nourishment I liked. Had I found it, believe me, I would never have caused any stir, and would have eaten my fill just like you and everyone else." Those were his last words.' - from Kafka's story, "A Fasting-Artist"
