Futility

There's a futileness to painting the same fruit over and over until it dies, a different take each time never able to give off the ripening then rotting taste and smell the real fruit would have, and a futileness to obsessively turning a light on and off, flashing into view things and people (if any) in a space intermittently, never able to get full views or full interactions or private thoughts.  If the second is filmed or videotaped, both expenditures of time and effort leave records -- a series of paintings (good or bad), a film or series of stills (boring or interesting).   (Stills would be reduced one more layer in the inability to capture full interactions).  The record would be edited -- lesser paintings discarded, highlights concentrated in making the film manageable in length -- and would not fully reflect the effort recorded.

The first seems more directed, more reaching, to capture the essence of the fruit -- its shape, its form, its color, its volume -- in strokes of paint; the second looks toward orchestrating the random, though extinguishing the lights the first time, if unannounced and unexpected, provokes initial reaction. 

It's possible, though not assured, for either or both to produce something interesting and revealing that makes us feel something lasting from the experience.   This feels less likely, though, to come from the randomness of the second.  Not sure why.