January 27, 2014 §
Overcoming a Creative Block
Brian Eno’s Prompts for Overcoming Creative Block, Inspired by John Cage
January 26, 2014 §
The Allure of the Map
I enjoy Borges a lot. He gets a reference.
Some days I wake up from a dream where I’m Borges but then, as I get started on my day, I realize I am in one of his books. At that point it becomes a nightmare. I never woke up but just woke up into another dream. It’s almost as if I’m trying to make a dream as intricate and confusing but as beautifully balanced as Borges was.
I wish I could explain it better but I thought I’d share.
January 22, 2014 §
Fyodor Dostoevsky Draws Elaborate Doodles In His Manuscripts
As I currently sit in another uninspiring classroom, doing my own doodles, it’s good to know that I’m in good company.
But how depressing is it that Dostoevsky draws more exciting doodles more quickly than I do?
January 21, 2014 §
I’m not afraid to compete. It’s just the opposite. Don’t you see that? I’m afraid I will compete — that’s what scares me. That’s why I quit the Theatre Department. Just because I’m so horribly conditioned to accept everybody else’s values, and just because I like applause and people to rave about me, doesn’t make it right. I’m ashamed of it. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody. I’m sick of myself and everybody else that wants to make some kind of a splash.
Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger
November 14, 2013 §
Fretting About the Opera
I don’t know what the actual title is, but I like mine better. I’m not a fan of the opera. I’m so young it’d come off as pretentious. I suppose that assumes I’m not already tirelessly and tiresomley pretentious. Oh well.
I love a little fretting. There’s nothing better. Goodbye to all that, but at least we should attend the funeral.
November 9, 2013 §
A friend sent me this. Terrific, really.
November 7, 2013 §
Lost in the Funhouse
It should be, and probably has been, told to a psychoanalyst, and it has been elaborated into a novel which contains some wonderful writing, but it is overwhelmingly nauseating, even to an enlightened Freudian. To the public, it will be revolting. It will not sell, and it will do immeasurable harm to a growing reputation … It is a totally perverse performance all around … I am most disturbed at the thought that the writer has asked that this be published. I can see no possible cause could be served by its publication now. I recommend that it be buried under a stone for a thousand years.
A cute, quick and entertaining look at Nabokov’s Lolita.