Well sometimes I have questions about the life cycle of an art object. I am generally okay with its creation from the deep recesses of the human mind, soul, heart, or whatever but am not sure how it is supposed to live its life. If it is a meal or performance it obviously dissolves into the cosmos. Or the digestive tract. But what of a sculpture of clay, stone or metal? What should happen to creative content embedded into a physical object? Fear not dear readers. As you have chosen to utilize what ever small portion of your life on this planet reading this blathering artist post, you shall be soon enlightened. Or perhaps not, no guarantees here.

I basically enjoy museums. I don’t like the admission charge, but that’s another story. It is curious how museum directors keep hoping from job to job. Are there perhaps some politics in play within the institutions of culture? Say it ain’t so! Well anyway to the matter at hand. The “sacred” object.

First let me bring you an illuminating graphic, created with almost no concern as to its truth:

At one point in human history, perhaps several points, the museums were born. They evolved from cabinets of curiosities to the tombs of the sacred.