If we didn't prize paintings for the colours,
Instead found the joy in scraping back the layers,
excavating deeper and deeper until we found bare canvas
would this be like preserving old buildings?
old ruins, old foundations?
where we have to scrape back, layer and layer until we reach rock or earth or bricks?
Each layer mines deeper and deeper into our souls,
Into each part of our culture,
incising away layer of our feeling of self.
Is this why old things and creating are so important?
Because without we'd have no way of recording that internal process
of building?
Without that would we know who we are?
Would that really matter?
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