In the seventies a group of American artists seized the means not of production but of reproduction. They tore apart visual culture at a time of no money no market and no one paying attention except other artists. Vietnam and Watergate had happened everything in America was being questioned.
For happiness one needs security but joy can spring like a flower even from the cliffs of despair.
If we listened to our intellect we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business because we'd be cynical. Well that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down.