"Adulthood, it seems to me, is about narrowing. The salmon roams the vast Pacific and then, to the thrum of its own programmed brain, begins its journey in a shrinking triangle closer and closer to the river mouth, then up the river, then over the falls, then into the forest to that one tapering stretch that is now its focus, center, and range."
"Homing Instincts," Sarah Menkedick
"Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride!"
Hunter S. Thompson
"But the fact is, those drones are my people. I end up gravitating toward them in Paris, too. The biggest lesson I’ve learned in 10 years is that I’m American to the core. It’s not just my urge to eat turkey in late November. It’s my certainty that I have an authentic self, which must be expressed. It’s being so averse to idleness that I multitask even when I’m having my head shrunk. And it’s my strange confidence that, whether I stay or go, everything will be fine."
"An American Neurotic in Paris," Pamela Druckerman
(Source: The New York Times)
"Last week, my dogs, on leash, somehow treed a groundhog, who from thirty feet up nose-dived back to the ground once I dragged the dogs past. I watched the event with the rich pleasure of earth’s imagination. It felt creative just to see it. I may exploit it later in a poem, but it will be sort of like fracking—I’ll get some gas out, some small combustion, at the expense of the moment’s landscape. The not-writing writer in me gets the actual thing, the writing writer crushes it and wrings it out.
Which is, of course, with writing, all you can do; I know I’ve got to sit down some time. When I do write, it is anywhere in the house, usually at night once the kids have gone to bed. I’ll write for thirty or forty-five minutes on my old and unintentionally pink laptop, bedecked with torso-less princess stickers (gifts from my daughter), whose screen is half come off. But when the stove needs tending in the winter, or my chair gets too familiar, or a child wakes up sick, or my wife finishes sewing for the night, or a barred owl’s call marks the hour and a nearly full moon lays ghost snow down on the autumn ground, I’ll go back to the space and time for not writing I’m lucky enough to arrange my life around."
"The Place Where I (Don’t) Write," Nathaniel Perry
"If I did work I was proud of, and I didn’t get the money, at least I’d have the work."
"For a craftsman, it is important to gather and use the materials lovingly, and this attitude allows the materials and the technique to teach one their ways. Along with the inner attitudes, the art of waiting needs to be cultivated. Silence is a tool of the intuitive realm, the vehicle of inspiration, just as readiness is the vehicle of physical techniques. Standing in readiness for any possibility allows recognition of outer conditions that might serve one’s deeper intent. Recognition is the ambassador of seeing.
Nothing is truly dead, even within the various levels of earth substance; stones simply breathe too quietly and slowly for their breath to be perceptible. In a craft, it is often the attitude of the individual working with the material–not the materials themselves–that is really dead or comatose. Can fires be kindled under these cold attitudes to enliven the working process, and to impart depth and warmth to it?
Through receptivity and communion, one can open to a higher consciousness, remembering that this quiet inner attention is a most precious energy which can be used throughout the total process. Recording the light of the outer subject can be linked with gaining access to one’s inner light."
"In one of Aesop’s fables, “The Rogue and the Oracle,” a man approaches the Oracle at Delphi. In his hand, which he keeps hidden under a cloak, he has a little bird. The plan is to ask the oracle whether the bird is dead or alive: if the answer is “dead,” he will simply produce the living creature; if “alive,” he’ll crush it. But an oracle is not an oracle by being easily tricked, and the reply is this: “Stranger, whether the thing that you hold in your hand be alive or dead is a matter that depends entirely on your will."