Enter Ahab; to him, Stubb

FIX UP, LOOK Sharp.
or, a beginning.


"upon each side of the pequod's quarter-deck, and pretty close to the mizzen shrouds, there was an auger hole, bored about half an inch or so, into the plank. his bone leg steadied in that hole; one arm elevated, and holding by a shroud; captain ahab stood erect, looking straight out beyond the ship's ever-pitching prow. there was an infinity of firmest fortitude, a determinate, unsurrenderable willfulness, in the fixed and fearless, forward dedication of that glance. not a word he spoke; nor did his officers say aught to him; though by all their minutest gestures and expressions, they plainly showed the uneasy, if not painful, consciousness of being under a troubled master-eye. and not only that, but moody stricken ahab stood before them with a crucifixion in his face; in all the nameless regal overbearing dignity of some mighty woe." p 138 frank stella. enter ahab; to him, stubb. 1988

what happens when art sees itself in itself?
does its history reduce itself to an infinite causal regression?
what happens when infinite regressions become exhaustible, finite permutations?
does it die?
what happens when art dies and is put in the ground?
does it look for a savior?
what happens when its saviors are made of carbon and paperbacked books?
does it wallow and wait for something more or is it dust for the grass of an unseen field in central missouri?
we'll see.

"art in art is art-as-art (art as dogma, part iii)
...
the beginning of art is not the beginning.
the finishing of art is not the finishing.
the furnishing of art is not the furnishing.
the nothingness of art is not nothingness.
negation in art is not negation.
the absolute in art is absolute.
art-in-art is art
the of art is art-as-art.
the end of art is not the end."
-ad reinhardt.