“An artist is always alone – if he is an artist.” – Henry Miller
Writing is a lonely job, no doubt about it. And no matter how successful you might become, you’re still alone. It’s the inexorable truth of the writer’s condition: you sit at your desk, in an empty room or in the most crowded coffee shop, yet you’re alone. You just do your thing.
Of course, this poses a rather interesting question: if you spend that much time alone, how do you find stuff to write about? Continue reading TMM: A Lonely Job
“Words are loneliness.” – Henry Miller
You find yourself late at night in a quiet room. There’s no one around; no movement, no noise, nothing to break time into small pieces. You are alone. And you begin to type words on a computer. While the entire world seems to dream, you type away all the dreams you have stored up in your heart. Slowly, maybe even painfully at times, you write all those dreams into existence. They take a different form… not quite alive, but not as dead as they feel when they’re trapped inside your mind. Continue reading TMM: Words are loneliness
When I was sixteen I thought I was a good writer. I had won a National writing competition with a magical realism novella, and the sister of a long dead, famous Romanian poet we were studying in high-school told me I wrote just like him.
This kind of gets to your head, especially at that age. This novella I had written received lots of praise from some of the best writers in the country. Published writers, award winners, people who owned publishing houses. And most of them didn’t even know I was only sixteen. Continue reading TMM: Good Writers
a second self or different version of oneself, such as
a :a trusted friend
b :the opposite side of a personality – Clark Kent and his alter ego Superman
c: a fictional character that is the author’s alter ego
Literature is the lie that tells the truth. Or so they say. That’s why sometimes writers choose to use alter egos. Ernest Hemingway wrote the so-called Nick Adams stories, John Updike had Rabbit Angstrom and Henry Bech, Bukowski had Henry Chinaski.
But why? Continue reading TMM: alter ego
“OK, I got Velazquez portrait of the Pope Innocent X. Quite an ambivalent study of absolute power. And here comes Francis Bacon. Despite never having seen this painting in person, Bacon became so obsessed with it that he compulsively repainted it over and over again, each version more horrific than the previous. […] It’s not until an artist finds his obsession that he can create his most inspired work.” – Anamorph
Continue reading Art and Obsession
“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.” – Stephen King
I remember each and every single time words failed me, because it doesn’t happen so often. The bitter moments when I needed them the most, when I struggled to express what I felt and what I wanted, and most times nothing but silence came out. Other times, tears.
The thing is, words do diminish the meaning of those words we hold closest to our souls, the words that could either make us or break us, the words that define who we are or what it is we’re feeling at any given moment. Maybe we are afraid that the words won’t mean as much to the person we’re telling them to, maybe it is because they mean a lot more to us then they could possibly mean to someone else.
And, in the end, the sad truth is that it’s not the words or how we say them that truly matters, but who we’re telling those words to.
Life and art are incredibly close to one another. Almost identical, but not quite. Like a parallel dimension, like an alternate universe, art has always been the number one destination for those who cannot find a place in a certain society.
But art and sex? Continue reading TMM: Sex and Art