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The fleeting art for me at that season, with the infinitesimal space along the flowing of my life where I conceive and bring to pass my visions. A vision of a moment or visions that stretch forth into many seasons. They are the fruit of my existence, devoted unto personal and creative mending. As a flash of lightning at times it cometh, and ever as a flash of lightning it materializeth. Without judgment, without title, nor master. But only the maker thereof within his work.
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