“When I speak of the aspiration towards the beautiful, of the ideal as the ultimate aim of art, which grows from a yearning for that ideal, I am not for a moment suggesting that art should shun the ‘dirt’ of the world. On the contrary! the artistic image is always a metonym, where one thing is substituted for another, the smaller for the greater. To tell of what is living, the artist uses something dead; to speak of the infinite, he shows the finite. Substitution… the infinite cannot be made into matter, but it is possible to create an illusion of the infinite: the image.”
“There is just this for consolation: an hour here or there, when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we’ve ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) knows these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning, we hope, more than anything, for more. Heaven only knows why we love it so.”
(Michael Cunningham, The Hours)
– for you, dear Alan –
“Razors pain you; Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful; Nooses give;
Gas smells awful; You might as well live.”
(Dorothy Parker, Enough Rope)
…”We actors are constantly searching
if you really think about tragedy
with a clear head
you can see at heart it’s really comedy
and vice versa…”
(Thomas Bernhard, Minetti)
Inspired by poetry, art, life, imperfections, music, nature, dreams and antiques.
Believes that things should not be in small drawers inside large closets.
As we live our lives forwards, but understand them backwards (as Kierkegaard says).