Collectivity was treated as an end in itself: We were here, as ruangrupa exhorted us, to “Make friends, not art!”
whatsoever man […] be scurvy or scabbed
two sharp winged Shears, Decked with divers Plumes, like painted Jays, Were fixed at his Back, to cut his airy ways.
This place Rome? It is but the tomb of mighty Rome. He showed Gerard . . . the gigantic vestiges of antiquity that peeped aboveground here and there.
This place Rome? It is but the tomb of mighty Rome.
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