“Art is murdered by How to, Why, What for, And endless reading and explanations” wrote Ruth A Wall who had no intent to murder her creations, she just wanted them out of the house where others might enjoy them. “I made things ephemeral. Made them with laughter and a tear. Made them to shine and shimmer for a day And then go.” Wall, who trained as a pilot before she became consumed by art was an intensely private person who said little yet left this all-surpassing volume.
