Sculpture exists the same as a conscious stuck in a photograph. We feel movement in each, through emotion, but exist in solitude. We imagine their voices absent of their thoughts. Formed images in our imagination mimic real life.
Art is solitude
reaching out to touch the dew
form the barren womb
A writer — and, I believe, generally all persons — must think that whatever happens to him or her is a resource. All things have been given to us for a purpose, and an artist must feel this more intensely. All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art.
–Jorge Luis Borges (poet)