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The use of "memory" in art generally finances loathsome schmaltz, turning the weight of concrete into gold bars of MEANING. Dusty, half-remembered paintings would feel like a slight but its true, they receding, they returning to the dust they will become. A world or a child, trying to recall a horse. Trying to remember how painting was. It is stupid blurry, worthless, it is weightlessly gone. Less memory than foreboding. More futuristic than most sci-fi tech.
