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I don't care if it's not like you envisioned it or if someone's done it already, they need YOUR take. They need more of YOU out there, the world. They need YOUR words and YOUR style and YOUR strokes and YOUR specific touch. Nobody can create it like you can. The world needs more of you.
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The eternal struggle of knowing exactly what you want a scene to look like in your head, except now you have to describe/depict it by physical means.
As grateful as I am for the gift of creation — writing, more specifically — that has been bestowed upon the human race, I sometimes cannot help but feel that, in certain light, it resembles a mockery of sorts. I am certain that much of the weight of this conclusion is borne by my own inadequacy, and I can only hope that, for some, their creations are flawless reflections of their intent. (Yet I doubt that anyone who has achieved perfection in their craft could go on creating.)
Why mockery? Because a vast, untamed world engulfs us in its wildness, with eight billion more worlds orbiting our own, and even that is just a fraction of the vast unknown. How can mere words ever suffice to convey the peace, the war, the life, the death within me as I live through the Peace, the War, the Life, the Death around me? How can one enclose all of it in language without diminishing its essence — when every part is vital? How can you hold the entirety of the ocean in a lake or cradle all the earth’s soil in your hands?
And yet, I’ve only got two. And from the way things are going, it seems they’re going to take the lake away from me. I know, ultimately, that this frustration is born of my own incompetence — but what a cruel trick! To recognize the impossibility of it and still dig in, trying to hold all that brown gold in hands too meager and too small.
A mouse dashes headfirst toward the wall — a bruise, a death, or a hidden door?
frankenstein, mary shelley // i have no mouth, and i must scream, harlan ellison
Honestly, the best thing about "getting good" at your craft (be it art, writing, whatever else) is not even the work you're able to create. It's the part where you get to a level of comfort, contentment and confidence with your craft that, even when people trash what you make, you no longer doubt yourself, you merely fold your hands in your lap, smile a tired smile and say with your full chest, "I don't care and my stuff is good, thank you very much."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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i have a lot of feelings around awards shows/season/in general and they basically boil down to this: i don't like awards for art. i believe we make art to express ourselves. and awards shows are basically massive faux performances saying: Who Is Good At Expression, And Who Isn't. What Is A Good Way To Express Yourself, And What Isn't. Who Looks Good While Doing This, And Who Doesn't. and that sucks to me. and is entirely arbitrary and made up and fucked. idk.
andrew garfield, for the believer magazine / mary oliver, franz marc’s blue horses
