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Beauty has always been a possible aim in art, but never enough to define it or to be the reason for its existence.
Kant said “A work of art is not the representation of a beautiful thing, but the beautiful representation of something”. He’s always been contradicted by the innumerable representations that have never been able to, nor will be able to, approach the infinite original beauty.
Beauty lies in fragility which is its strength and in the wonderful difference which is its equality. Gathering all of this together, it fits thus forming a whole.
This is a tribute to women, to friends, girlfriends, companions, who are my sun, my storms; my sugar, my spices; my encounter, my doom; my dream, my madness.
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