Lydia Millet

There was the honour and austerity of money as he walked through art galleries, as he saw around him the collections of oil paintings by dead men, lit so carefully that warmth seemed to emanate from within – and not because their art was loved or understood but because it could be sold and bought for handsome sums.

There was the honour and austerity of money as he walked through art galleries, as he saw around him the collections of oil paintings by dead men, lit so carefully that warmth seemed to emanate from within – and not because their art was loved or understood but because it could be sold and bought for handsome sums.

– Lydia Millet –

How the Dead Dream

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Jade Chang

All I wanted,” Saina thought, “was to make someone feel something.” Money can’t do that. Just looking at a dollar bill did nothing to your emotions — you have to make money or lose money for it to make you feel anything. You can earn it, win it, lose it, save it, spend it, find it, but you can’t sell it because you never really own it. On the other hand, you didn’t have to possess a song or a sculpture for it to make you feel something — you only had to experience it. So why did collectors want to collect? What feeling were they pursuing?

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