A scrapbook of stuff I'm reading / looking at / listening to / thinking about...
Posts tagged "be boring"
Feb 06, 2014
Jan 13, 2014
I write weird stories. I don’t know why I like weirdness so much. Myself, I’m a very realistic person. I don’t trust anything New Age — or reincarnation, dreams, Tarot, horoscopes. I don’t trust anything like that at all. I wake up at 6 in the morning and go to bed at 10, jogging every day and swimming, eating healthy food. I’m very realistic. But when I write, I write weird.
— Haruki Murakami, echoing Flaubert
Nov 15, 2013
Back [in] the Middle Ages, when artists were craftsmen and belonged to guilds…[a]rt was a job, like glassblowing. With the Renaissance came creative liberation. The artist gained sanction to develop his own character and style. “The more artists disengaged themselves from craftsmen,” write the Wittkowers, “the more they were expected to display—did display—symptoms of behavior not associated with the rank and file citizen.”
— Tom Jokinen, “The Myth of the Tortured Artist,” quoting from Margot and Rudolf Wittkower’s Born Under Saturn: The Character and Conduct of Artists
Nov 19, 2012
Jul 02, 2012
Mar 02, 2012
I’m a much riskier actor than I am a person. There’s this Flaubert quote that I love, that I’m going to get slightly wrong. But it’s something about ‘I want to live - I want to live the quiet life of the bourgeois so that I can be violent and unrestrained in my work.’ That works for me. And for some reason I let myself between action and cut go into a kind of freefall, a place in a space where I am allowed to think, behave, move, appear in any way that I see fit. Unfortunately, I don’t let myself do that in my own waking life. But at least there’s some place for it.
Nov 23, 2011
The first duty of the artist is to survive.
— Luke Sullivan, "How To Last in a Tough Business Filled with Rejection"
Aug 18, 2011
Aug 09, 2011
My life is as simple as I can make it. Work all day, cook, eat, wash up, telephone, hack writing, drink, television in the evenings. I almost never go out. I suppose everyone tries to ignore the passing of time: some people by doing a lot, being in California one year and Japan the next; or there’s my way—making every day and every year exactly the same.