W. Kandinsky: "There are no 'musts' in art." T.S. Eliot: "There is no freedom in art." Dostoievski character, after the ancient Middle East epigram: "Everything is permitted." (R-rated weblog. Since one has been advised there is no Literature anymore, or even literature, only writing, one proceeds on the premise that this weblog qualifies as not-meaningless, since it is, or appears to be, a form of "writing." Image: Banksy.)
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
In the Ocean of Plots
Tonight, once again, in connection with Screenplay No. 2, no freaken idea where I was going, yet a few things came to me; it's wearing me out, truly wearing me out, I could barely get started tonight, had to go out on an emergency run for some cream so I could make a cup of coffee and it's in the twenties but then there's the mild euphoria that comes with knowing, once again, that one has managed, against all odds, and particularly against the ocean of preexisting plots stretching to the horizon in all directions and ripped by currents that threaten to drag one God knows where, to swim out a few strokes deeper.
Posted by Richard McNally at 1:06 AM
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Hi Rick...if what you're describing is the same as the hand-wringing-do-anything-else-but-paint method of pulling the courage to begin painting out of myself then you have my complete sympathy :) RED
Now I really must go paint...
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