Words I don’t know where they come from. I can summon them (sometimes I can) into my mind, into my fingers, I don’t know why. Or I’ll suddenly hear them walking, sometimes waking— they don’t often come when I need them. When I need them most terribly, never. ~ Franz Wright
Poetry | The Peace of Wild Things by Wendell Berry
Poetry | who knows if the moon’s a balloon by e e cummings
Poetry | So You Want to Be a Writer ~ Charles Bukowski
Poetry | The Summer Day ~ Mary Oliver
Poetry | Allen Ginsberg ~ An Eastern Ballad
Natalie Goldberg on How a Writer Must Say Yes to Life
Poetry | What to Remember When Waking ~ David Whyte
What to Remember When Waking by David Whyte In that first hardly noticed moment in which you wake, coming back to this life from the other more secret, moveable and frighteningly honest world where everything began, there is a small opening into the new day which closes the moment you begin your plans. What you can […]
Henry Miller on Perspective, Acceptance, and the Beauty of Making Art
“When you put your mind to such a simple, innocent thing, for example, as making a watercolour, you lose some of the anguish which derives from being a member of a world gone mad. Whether you paint flowers, stars, horses or angels you acquire respect and admiration for all the elements which go to make […]