“So now; how did God produce this world? Did he do it with will? With his intention? How did he do it? The fable is that he breathed upon us. In his breath, his wind, came moisture and things began to grow. The moisture of God is all that is needed to set the thing going. An interaction of youth. A message of hope. Nothing physical.
How do you intend for your breath to become a work of art? The only way I can see it is that you prevent your breath from becoming a structure. As soon as your breath takes on the form of a room, you are a carpenter; you’re not God. You’re committing a structure, an aggression… the only thing that has any importance is that your being, your breath, your life, lends to this thing a timelessness; a feeling that you see it as it will be and can’t be in any other way. It doesn’t change; it doesn’t move.” ~ Milton Resnick
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