(And evening notes, from my notebook:
One thing I know: this always helps, even if I forget about it when I stand alone above the clouds, millions of miles from the closest star. Eons between me and the closest physical object. A chair, a window. Writing like this always helps. Now I sit for real in this couch, big notebook leaned against my knees and teacup against my stomach. It doesn’t necessarily make me understand, but one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead,)
Category Archives: notes
From a sunny balcony, writing with friends
(I’ve been in a flow lately with writing on a story, but now I have to really make an effort to keep going with it instead of starting to think.)
Advice for old regrets
It happened and then it was gone. It’s by thinking about getting rid if it that you’re thinking about it at all.
(3 Quotes that hit me and got written down in my notebook)
- “Every time you wrestle with your doubts, every time you dismantle your intellect to use a tool instead of analysing it, every time you choose to practice instead of theorize your creativity, you will move forward.”
- “Art is a field that’s defined by your actions, not by your qualifications.”
- “The 21st century is an aesthetic century. In history there are ages of reason and there are ages of spectacle, and it’s important to know which you’re in. Our America, our internet, is not ancient Athens. it’s Rome. And your problem is you think you’re in the forum when you’re really in the circus.”
(+1
- “Trust yourself. Trusting yourself means living out what you already know to be true.”)
Love letters to the enemy
You’re too late
for our broken hearts.
First
Completely random thought from the other day:
There’s never been a generation more aware of their own sin. They might not categorize it as such, and they might try to cover it up – or cure it – with some twisted form of self acceptance. But don’t underestimate how much the world knows its judgement. And how much it acts in compensation for that.
(And of course let’s not skirt around the edges of chains, but let’s focus on how they fall.)
Something sassy I don’t remember writing
the art of slow living,
(I’ve done more than you)
the art of poverty.
(I’ve gone to a hundred different countries to write poetry)
From Eden
Since the beginning of time, people have chosen their gardens. But you choose by growing it.
(Not some incessant stumbling, but willful action all the way into what will be your resting place.)
(July 25th)
(Reminder)
Learn to go through things instead of away from them.
The Surprise of Creativity
(Excerpt from a notebook) On the topic of writing, Bukowski says: If it doesn’t come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don’t do it. There’s no other way, and there never was. I think what he means is that your writing has to be a surprise, even to yourself. Too many people see writing as a form of thinking, when in reality it’s the complete opposite, a mirrored version or maybe a distant relative to it. When you write, when you really write, you do not need to fear the blank page, because it’s not you who are going to fill it, but your words. Sometimes I’m all up in my head, and I only write such things I’ve already thought about. But what then is the point of writing at all? Is it only documentation? I believe, and believe strongly, that the power lies in not knowing how your sentence will end. I believe, and believe strongly, that we have labyrinths in us just waiting to be discovered, but if you always know and see everything, you just walk along a winding path. You miss all the ways you could have gone. True writing is about something like that.
eirians 