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Braque
All of the sadness of the city came suddenly with the first cold rains of winter,
All of the sadness of the city came suddenly with the first cold rains of winter,
I started this project right when we moved to Brentwood. It rained steadily for two or three weeks.
The story was writing itself and I was having a hard time keeping up with it.
The story was writing itself and I was having a hard time keeping up with it.
After writing a story I was always empty and both sad and happy, as though I had made love, and I was sure this was a very good story although I would not know truly how good until I read it over the next day.
After writing a story I was always empty and both sad and happy, as though I had made love, and I was sure this was a very good story although I would not know truly how good until I read it over the next day.
I always worked until I had something done and I always stopped when I knew what was going to happen next. That way I could be sure of going on the next day.
I always worked until I had something done and I always stopped when I knew what was going to happen next. That way I could be sure of going on the next day.
Friulano
inaccrochable.
People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself.
People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself.
There you could always go into the Luxembourg museum and all the paintings were sharpened and clearer and more beautiful if you were belly-empty, hollow-hungry. I learned to understand Cézanne much better and to see truly how he made landscapes when I was hungry. I used to wonder if he were hungry too when he painted; but I thought possibly it was only that he had forgotten to eat. It was one of those unsound but illuminating thoughts you have when you have been sleepless or hungry. Later I thought Cézanne was probably hungry in a different way.
There you could always go into the Luxembourg museum and all the paintings were sharpened and clearer and more beautiful if you were belly-empty, hollow-hungry. I learned to understand Cézanne much better and to see truly how he made landscapes when I was hungry. I used to wonder if he were hungry too when he painted; but I thought possibly it was only that he had forgotten to eat. It was one of those unsound but illuminating thoughts you have when you have been sleepless or hungry. Later I thought Cézanne was probably hungry in a different way.
