What is it to live a creative life? What does it mean to be consistently in the creative process? It yields different kinds of fruit, instead of just saying “I’m going to write a song and it’s going to be a hit song” it’s much more interesting to me to explore what it might be like to change a song that could change someone’s mind, or inspire someone to act as a positive force, or I want to paint a picture that would make someone ask a question that they’ve never asked before. I’m just much more interested in the creative process as a philosophy now than anything else, if that makes sense?
She kept calling your name as you pretended not to hear.
Your hands filled with a love you lied about.
A love fading into the dark glow.
Finally, no choice but to look back.
Wait for me, you said.
Your lies made me smile with the decision
To make you miss me instead.
The lies are just a game
I’ve played before.
Into the darkness I lept, all the movement
Motion and disappointment.
Your silhouette in the photobooth
Left and right, you searched
I could see you from afar,
just a drunken fool.
And I smiled as you finally located
At the last possible moment you stole the starlight away
My time was up and the world was leaving
I could only gasp in amazement
at the turn of events.
I had no control.
Only acceptance as it all faded to black.
“If we are to save the mind we must ignore its gloomy virtues and celebrate its strength and wonder. Our world is poisoned by its misery, and seems to wallow in it. It has utterly surrendered to that evil which Nietzsche called the spirit of heaviness. Let us not add to this. It is futile to weep over the mind, it is enough to labor for it.
But where are the conquering virtues of the mind? The same Nietzsche listed them as mortal enemies to heaviness of the spirit. For him, they are strength of character, taste, the “world,” classical happiness, severe pride, the cold frugality of the wise. More than ever, these virtues are necessary today, and each of us can choose the one that suits him best. Before the vastness of the undertaking, let no one forget strength of character. I don’t mean the theatrical kind on political platforms, complete with frowns and threatening gestures. But the kind that through the virtue of its purity and its sap, stands up to all the winds that blow in from the sea. Such is the strength of character that in the winter of the world will prepare the fruit.”
“Spend your money on the things money can buy. Spend your time on the things money can’t buy.”
“One heart is not connected to another through harmony alone. They are, instead, linked deeply through their wounds. Pain linked to pain, fragility to fragility. There is no silence without a cry of grief, no forgiveness without bloodshed, no acceptance without a passage through acute loss. That is what lies at the root of true harmony.”
“Sometimes I feel like a caretaker of a museum — a huge, empty museum where no one ever comes, and I’m watching over it for no one but myself.
Like Einstein’s universe, it is both boundless and finite. Boundless: it runs back through time and space to the very beginnings of the world and to its utmost limits. In my being I sum up the earthly inheritance and the state of the world at this moment.
And yet life is also a finite reality. It possesses an inner heart, a centre of interiorization, a me which asserts that it is always the same throughout the whole course. A life is set within a given space of time; it has a beginning and an end; it evolves in given places, always retaining the same roots and spinning itself an unchangeable past whose opening toward the future is limited. It is possible to grasp and define a life as one can grasp and define a thing, since a life is “an unsummed whole,” as Sartre puts it, a detotalized totality, and therefore it has no being. But one can ask certain questions about it.
Simone de Beauvoir
Out of the silence, the return of Glamour’s son. Broken hearted, and set in a panic, the calm depths of the forever black lake led him back. Echo and a return to silence.
Out of the droplets falling,
The one reflecting the stars
Came back into my hand;
Only, I no longer felt thirst.
Shadows under the full moon
On paths well-known and traveled
I could only listen to the songs
That broke your heart again.
“It is necessary to fall in love – the better to provide an alibi for all the despair we are going to feel anyway.” ― Albert Camus