Continue reading “Albert Camus’s Beautiful Letter of Gratitude to His Childhood Teacher After Winning the Nobel Prize”
19 November 1957
Dear Monsieur Germain,
I let the commotion around me these days subside a bit before speaking to you from the bottom of my heart. I have just been given far too great an honor, one I neither sought nor solicited. But when I heard the news, my first thought, after my mother, was of you. Without you, without the affectionate hand you extended to the small poor child that I was, without your teaching and example, none of all this would have happened. I don’t make too much of this sort of honor. But at least it gives me the opportunity to tell you what you have been and still are for me, and to assure you that your efforts, your work, and the generous heart you put into it still live in one of your little schoolboys who, despite the years, has never stopped being your grateful pupil. I embrace you with all my heart.
There’s a part of me that believes art to be a primordial aspect of the human condition. Art inspires, art is a way of achieving greatness, of building a better world. Art turns strangers into friends. Without art, without artists, we wouldn’t be ourselves anymore.
Because I feel that within the confines of any artistic form of expression, we allow ourselves to wear a mask. The artist hides behind words or paints or brushes. And he feels safe. He can be anyone he wants to be. His freedom is limitless. And he plays this bizarre game of hide and seek with the rest of the world, constantly changing the rules, until he decides – maybe on a mere subconscious level – to be himself, thinking that people will never find out.Continue reading “I Am An Artist Because…”
There’s no doubt about it: the Internet loves cats. And weird videos with people failing at some insanely basic tasks.
But did you know quite a lot of famous authors also loved cats?Continue reading “Famous Writers and Their Love of Cats”
Some people like to write late at night. When they’re all by themselves. When there’s nothing but silence. Utter silence. Heartbreakingly quiet.
Others like to write early in the morning.
Or mid afternoon. At a crowded cafe.
Or on a bus. Scribbling on a notepad.
This is not about the different habits, this is about the fact that habits are just that: stuff you get used to doing to such an extent that you cannot imagine it doing any other way.Continue reading “TMM: It’s Not At All About Midnights”
The artist. A solitary genius. A creator of beauty so sacred that we can’t help but love and fear at the same time.
“He’s a true artist,” we find ourselves saying, and it’s these words put together that conjure up the vision of someone whose inexorable destiny was to create, even at the expense of having to endure a lifetime of humility and frustration and social alienation.
The true artist is often misunderstood. He’s utterly and inconsolably alone with his art. And it is that art, that we all revere, that we’d think of as a bridge, that art is actually a wall. The artist hides behind this wall, refusing to face reality.
But times are changing. The artist has little choice in the matter: he either dies an artist or lives long enough to see himself become a creative entrepreneur.Continue reading “You Either Die an Artist or Live Long Enough to See Yourself Become a Creative Entrepreneur”
I’d say that I’ve come a long way from my high school years, when I was struggling to find people who’d be interested in reading my stories. I’m not going to lie: it’s important to know that someone reads your stuff, that someone cares. Makes you feel less alone, and isn’t that one of the reasons we write?
And I appreciate that, and I’m truly grateful for being able to present my ideas or ask questions, to expect a response every single time I need one. But the truth is, we never write for a bunch of people. Yes, we talk a lot about finding our target audience, about all the ways we can improve how we reach our target audience, but that soon becomes a vague term, one that is used to define different people, who only share a number of preferences.Continue reading “The Ideal Reader”
Art isn’t something to be discussed in a few lines, so I feel like I didn’t make it any justice. The reason I believe so, is because the other day I only managed to establish one of the rules, today I feel like covering another aspect.
We are surrounded by many forms of art ; movies, music, poetry, novels, paintings, whatever floats your boat. Everyone is free to embrace it as they wish but things aren’t going exactly like they used to and I am aware that sounds like a cliche. Unfortunately, it’s true.Continue reading “Art is The New Black”