Twenty is as does…
Why does it seem like some alarm is going off over and over?
Spent way too much time entering urls, because I got obsessed when I should have just delegated.
That was a good salad I made my way through this evening; spinach, avocado, beans, greens.
Creativity is frightening, overwhelming; the best art instruction should strive not to domesticate that information.
Frightening because it is the engine of change.
The way to handle such change is to make it habitual, to internalize and observe it daily.
That’s the way I’d do it if I were superhuman.
Here are the pleasures of comic book narrative: the continuing opening and stitching up of narrative loops; the greater distance encompassed by the stitch, the greater the pleasure.
We enjoy seeing a pattern emerge from a great distance.
It’s reassuring.
The TV tells me “The snow is already falling” and I look out of the window to see that it’s true.
Yes, the streets are dusted.
I miss snuggling with Lehigh who is being well looked after by my Mom.
In the space between lines, between sentences, between all too stolid thoughts is a challenge to what I know.
Step into that challenge.
This morning I read Toni Bentley’s review of Catherine Millet’s book Jealousy in the New York Times and while I haven’t read the book in question, I found the smirking triumphalism if the review repulsive.
It looks like I’m going to be doing a show in New Zealand, and if so I’ll be heading there to install it.
Yes, I’ll check beneath every sheep for hobbits.
And now to clear more floor space.
Tags: art, daily photo, reading, twenty sentences