Consider how all art, all self-expression can only ever be the hyper-inflating interior surface of some compound, complex emptiness; how from nothing we have made everything (possible) and how the rich curvature and self-inflected acceleration of all thought, all culture and all reality was always (and already) the mischievous logical negation of unity, of completeness and of, again, this vacuum that creates its own necessity. Everything is self-representation, but nothing is self; enigmas proliferate.
You can never see what is necessarily, constitutively, mischievously not there. Art dissimulates emptiness.
Daedelus Kite 