Having lost most of a week at the studio, I think I can see that art, beauty, all that stuff, is forever bound to time, an abstract concept dressed up in numerical drag. I used to smile to watch my boss at the fabrication shop spend all of his time seeing to it that work time (our time) flowed smoothly. It was a consuming job, and it meant that he rarely got to do what he was brilliant at. I need a boss. A paycheck would be nice, too.