Art as the pure process of imagining utopia — it is the zone of non resistance that renders subject/object perceptions as obsolete. Art as the substance of things hoped for, unrealized dreams, the old lens through which we once viewed the world. Art as nostalgia, homesickness, philosophy. the desire to render ideas portable. We muse over our malleability and over that of the world. We consume art, which is to say we chew on our own substance, the only food which will allow us to grow. And if our senses are not subtle enough to know yesterday from today, let that be the zone of non resistance too, man standing on the edge of Cape Thought, staring beyond the edge of either things or sight. Art — king of time. Developments and ideas passing through the world like lights of a lamp passing through a house whose windows can be seen in darkness. Beside, beyond, between. Taste and talent for transcendence. Take away everything, but also go within, both compass needle and unresponsive body. No discipline, no cyber-pastoral language can escape nostalgia and its artifacts. Longing is what we share, the return home is what divides us — man standing on the edge of Utopia/Dystopia. His prefigurative future lies in uncovering truly new ideas, yet they do not deceptively lie under the objectifying eye.