Posts filed under “writing”.
If you must write, you must do it in the face of all opposition. […] Do not spend too much more time on culture & reading, these are traps. When everything conspires to make the thing impossible, when you are tired, worried, with no time, or money, it is then that things get done. Samuel […]
Style is a very simple matter: it is all rhythm. Once you get that, you can’t use the wrong words. But on the other hand here am I sitting after half the morning, crammed with ideas, and visions, and so on, and can’t dislodge them, for lack of the right rhythm. Now this is very […]
When I left Trinity House in 1956 I hung around Hull for a while because the universe was unknown to me, perhaps unknowable. I had to learn to discover where I was, to recognize the barriers from the opportunities. As far as I knew there were only a couple of possibilities for the lunch break. […]
Gracias for your beggars, ubiquitous as fear. The atonement of hand-washed tiles in the Metro. For tomatoes, scarlet with passion. Pocket-size dogs bred from a pinpoint of invisibility. For plazas of victory and defeat repeated in your bourgeois streets. For spare and quiffed shrieks of Modernity in the spaces set aside. For nightlife, candle-light, sangria, […]
The last night I spent in London, I took some girl or other to the movies and, through her mediation, I paid you a little tribute of spermatozoa, Tristessa. A late show, a crowded cinema. The drunks all stubbornly remained unmoved and jeered, laughed and catcalled throughout your film though sibilantly hushed by pairs of […]