There is no bridge between the drywall of a gallery and the wooden bar of an Irish pub on the Ukrainian front line. There is no “fine-tuning” that can translate the sound of a mortar round into the language of a budget meeting or a latte order. Sanitizing the struggle is wrong. Sweetener is wrong. Take it straight. Black. Reality is the constant “hum” of non-existence. But it is the only reality from which art can be born. In war, the mask is no longer a luxury. To express “unexplained” is the only fucking fortune of war.

From "The Machine & The Medium of War" by Cory Zimmerman

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