artsinstitute

Often Guests forget their things Leave their hats, their coats and rings Other people leave their stains Leave their shadows leave their pains That's how that song by Dead Soul Tribe begins. It's meant to be dark in eerie. But some people leave things that stick with us forever for good. Plain as simple as it sounds, some guy learned some digital 3D creation software. Soon he made his own house... a house that was out of his reach before... his own car, his own girl... soon enough these things all became real... not in his mind, no... he had these things, he was hired and paid for his know-how and passion. Whoever taught him that le

Values are in constant quarrel with each other. They all have advocates and harsh critics. When it comes to individuality, the eternal pugnacity between languor and self-improvement has always been my favorite. Where I come from, the advocates for social redemption through the intervention of an alien institution are alarmingly numerous and… sadly… successful. These people will convince you that the only viable fairness is that of the magic hand that descends upon you to pick you up and deliver you the island of well being and equality. They convince you that it is the magic hand’s duty (often the hand of the state) to prov

Do you guys remember this poem by Robert Frost? TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a