Kevin Focke

In my opinion, works of art should be viewed as gifts; something precious given from a point of empathy, where personal enrichment is vastly superior to the value of the gift, and the giver begs for nothing but for the gift to shine on its own.

Art has simple founding principles: Less is more, more or less; fill in the blanks with no filler.

The tragedy of art is the misalignment of merit and the perception thereof. A hype is a classic example of positive (from the creator__ perspective) misalignment. Van Gogh is a classic example of negative misalignment, a poor laggard who may enjoy the fruits of his labour rotting under the ground. Van Gogh went unrecognized, ostracized, and is now celebrated as many who have come before him, and many who will come after him. Therefore, I declare here, the Wisdom of the Crowd does not apply to art.

Focke's razor: Never attribute to plot holes that which is adequately explained by miracles.

Life summed up with a marketing slogan: Limited Edition!

Fear is like a little germ in your head, allow it to grow and it takes over your all.

Inspiration is the crèche of your brainchildren. If you don__ feed them, they will die, and never come back. So someone please think about the children!

Where did it go, the moderate opine? I can't find it here nor there!'Perhaps then it's twixt the false dichotomy?

The biggest twist in fiction might be a story ending exactly how you thought it would.

Climate change is like my head: it__ not visible in every instance, but I__ pretty darn sure it__ there.

Pampered content is a public resignation of artistic integrity.

A writer who intermingles his own opinions with that of his characters is less consequent than a fascistic communist.

I'm the most famous person, problem is people don't know it yet_

-The burden of existence is bestowed upon birth.-The gift of existence is bestowed upon birth.Choose wisely, your life (and potential others' life) depend on it.

Bad business does not revolve around missing crossroads. It revolves around roundabouts.

Writing complex characters is the penultimate exercise in empathy.

Love yourself_ the social horde spouts from on high, mere moments later they frown at a bypassing narcissist.

A coalescence of verbose convolution, veering on imperceptibility, impinges upon a plain proclamation an apparent profundity.