Artists are like canaries in a cave who sing the sweetest and feel the pain first. And, as with canaries, we far too often hear their tune only once the music stops.
Artists are like canaries in a cave who sing the sweetest and feel the pain first. And, as with canaries, we far too often hear their tune only once the music stops.
Mathematics is to the mind what the heart is to art. Without the latter there is no need for the former, but the former is the ladder to the latter. When the latter and the ladder come together, the former is the maker and the maker is the man... and the woman. Both in equal parts.
Shutdown of Idea transference yields, well... nothing. No idea transference = no communication = Silence = Death.
He Johnny Appleseeded through life a thousand hop-scotched points of light and hope at a time, reconnecting with lost lights left behind and helter-skeltering toward all those new wide-eyed points of light far ahead. He knew it was the only way back to the future we once had and needed to find again.
We could do with a few less credit associations and a bit more credit by association.
One man's shill is another man's shell.
He was armed with nought but a fiery pen and the passion of his conviction that we , ALL OF US, can be better than to blindly and silently stand by as this country, this country that he loved, incrementalized itself moment by moment toward George Orwell's State of perpetual War, Nero's Rome and Marie Antoinette's Paris.
I can still see the amber sunset and the Statue of Liberty through the newly-wedded paned-glass of Windows on the World that Sunday evening three weeks before the Towers fell. We left the wedding dozens of roses in hand the bride and groom needed not there was such a surfeit. That view I experienced is a sight that now exists for birds alone and, perchance, a lingering spirit or two; or, if the fates be cruel, a whispered echo of that golden-haired bartender's gorgeous smile.
The culture wars of the Sixties have returned, but silently this time, and they are being played out in bohemian dive bars and on social software sites. Just call it Generation XY, a two in one proposition coupling all those Gen-exers trapped between idealism and despair, and all those socially conscious Gen Y types who came just a bit after us.
When everybody gets to thinking they're right, that's when you know they've all just gotta be wrong.