It all started in a cafe.
A friend and i were talking about art. What is art?, What isn't art?, Who decides what is and isn't art?, Can anyone decide?, etc etc.
Most of the classical questions were simmered through, no real answer came out of it. It never does, and it never should. And, anyways, it's never the answers we are really out to find, we just like spending our time discussing it.
While discussing Duchamp and his fellow artist she was sitting there, playing with a piece of aluminium foil from her cigarette-pack. Folding, bending, twisting, folding, throwing it up in the air, watching it land on the table (or the floor, when it missed the table)
She said to me - So now I'm calling this art.
I replied: If you call that art, then I call it architecture. I'll make something big out of it.
She laughed
She had every right to laugh, she was right, or maybe i should say: She is right, for now. So far i haven't made a building of it, but a lamp, a garden lamp I've named Palace. Maybe i should call the future building Lamp just to make it equal.
