for those without the consolation of thinking there is recompense for
the here and now built-in, there is art. each rising sun calls for
its renewal before dimming. to have been something different, to have
caught us offguard and captivated, suspended us over the gulf. how
much easier if the infinite life were a fact. and who's to prove it
isn't. where is the burden of that proof anyway. well art even has
an answer for that.