art

Sylvia would have taken it seriously- so strong was her devotion to the innate intelligence of form. Those pretty tools like glue and pens, pasting together look-books _ for Sylvia it would have been like toy making or arranging jewels. Unfortunately, Sylvia__ flair for design and graphics went unnoticed by the Mademoiselle staff, who had already pigeonholed her as a __riter_.

Haven't I told you scores of times, that you're always beginners, and the greatest satisfaction was not in being at the top, but in getting there, in the enjoyment you get out of scaling the heights? That's something you don't understand, and can't understand until you've gone through it yourself. You're still at the state of unlimited illusions, when a good, strong pair of legs makes the hardest road look short, and you've such a mighty appetite for glory that the tiniest crumb of success tastes delightfully sweet. You're prepared for a feast, you're going to satisfy your ambition at last, you feel it's within reach and you don't care if you give the skin off your back to get it! And then, the heights are scaled, the summits reached, and you've got to stay there. That's when the torture begins; you've drunk your excitement to the dregs and found it all too short and even rather bitter, and you wonder whether it was really worth the struggle. From that point there is no more unknown to explore, no new sensations to experience. Pride has had its brief portion of celebrity; you know that your best has been given and you're surprised it hasn't brought a keener sense of satisfaction. From that moment the horizon starts to empty of all hopes that once attracted you towards it. There's nothing to look forward to but death. But in spite of that you cling on, you don't want to feel you're played out, you persist in trying to produce something, like old men persist in trying to make love, with painful, humiliating results. ... If only we could have the courage to hang ourselves in front of our last masterpiece!

I have no sympathy with the belief that art is the restricted province of those who paint, sculpt, make music and verse. I hope we will come to an understanding that the material used is only incidental, that there is artist in every man; and that to him the possibility of development and of expression and the happiness of creation is as much a right and as much a duty to himself, as to any of those who work in the especially ticketed ways.

Creating anything that never existed before is not sanity.

The result may be important but it__ not the actual measure. The measure is the feeling you have made contact with something.

Life is a work of art, and what you see depends on your perspective.

The last thing we discover in composing a work is what to put down first.

Is there a recipe for making beauty? The schools give recipes, but they do not beget works that make people exclaim: " How beautiful that is!

Threshold is where the madness ends and the magic begins.

Millions of people can draw. Art is whether there is a scream in you wanting to get out in a special way.

In every human being there is the artist, and whatever his activity, he has an equal chance with any to express the result of his growth and his contact with life. I don't believe any real artist cares whether what he does is 'art' or not. Who, after all, knows what art is?

Discovering Distilled Creativity"Amazing how sitting down to listen with no distractions - no tv, no devices, no radio - can enhance your life; the sigh of the wind the only ambient noise. Then, in that still moment, your distilled creativity comes because you feel so connected to the Universe.

What a Christian portrays in his art is the totality of life. Art is not to be a vehicle for self-conscious evangelism. Christians ought not to be threatened by fantasy and imagination. The Christian is the really free man. He is free to have imagination.

Creation pulls something from an abyss of nothing. Startups take the something and give it to those in the dark, at first, perhaps, for nothing.

The end will be what it will be. The object is intense living, fulfillment; the great happiness in creation.

Creation pulls something from an abyss of nothing. Startups take the something & give it to those in the dark, at first, perhaps, for nothing.

I can__ overstate how little I knew about myself at 22, or how little I__ thought about what I was doing. When I graduated from college I genuinely believed that the creative life was the apex of human existence, and that to work at an ordinary office job was a betrayal of that life, and I had to pursue that life at all costs. Management consulting, law school, med school, those were fine for other people _ I didn__ judge! _ but I was an artist. I was super special. I was sparkly. I would walk another path.And I would walk it alone. That was another thing I knew about being an artist: You didn__ need other people. Other people were a distraction. My little chrysalis of genius was going to seat one and one only.

My motto for creat