#c.jat

... some of us are born in the wrong place, the whole of our childhood is like being shipwrecked on a desert island, we ache with a homesickness without knowing what home is yet.

"Tell me, Ted, what is it that you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"

The artist was fourteen years old and knew nothing about art, but one day he would be grown-up and celebrated around the world, and would realize that he still only knew the same simple things: Art is a moment. Art is being a reason. Art is coping with being alive for one more week.

Joar was good at mending engines, because in them he could always see what was broken, but humans are full of crap you can't see. We break in the invisible parts. So Joar didn't know how to say that he loved the artist.