H. Miller – Tropic of Cancer

Standing on the threshold of that world which Matisse has created I re-experienced the power of that revelation which had permitted Proust to so deform the picture of life that only those who, like himself, are sensible to the alchemy of sound and sense, are capable of transforming the negative reality of life into the substantial and significant outlines of art. Only those who can admit the light into their gizzards can translate what is there in the heart.

 

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Are we monks or are we zombies?

Alright, this time I will be serious and write something that may be another step in explaining why this blog works the way it does. My goal is to argue if and why my doings might be consider a voice, one of many, in the much fragmeted chorus of contemporary art. In other words, I will focus on the question what kind of people with bigger names are doing something that resembes to some extend our quotes and pictures and those illustrated essays. But first, feel invited to listen to this hit by The Cure and keep it in the background.

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R. Bresson – Au hasard Balthazar

-Keep it. It’s not money I need,but a friend.

-Yes, a friend.

-A friend who can tell me
how to run away. I’ve always wanted to.

-Run away?

-Run away. A friend to share my pleasures and pains.

-I’ll share your pains and pleasures. But I hope it’s more pleasure than pain.

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