The never ending story of unborn artworks

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Everybody has experienced it. You are liberating  a just purchased  electric device from its futuristic styrofoam packing. Hey, doesn’t that look like a sofa? I wrapped a piece in a ragged colour lobe;after a few cuts in packing paper a little man came out and occupied the sofa. Some final pen strokes and he looked quite happy. Millions of these intuitive actions never became art, isn’t that a shame?

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