“I think I have a talent for living. Perhaps I’m trying to make the most of something small for want of something better, but I think a true talent for living has the quality of creation, and if that’s the talent I was meant to have, I’m awfully glad I have it. I’d rather live a first-rate life than paint a second-rate picture.” -Samuel Taylor, Sabrina Fair
I read this line and the letters are clothes warm from the dryer, clinging and comforting: You can have a first-rate life. Then they are little jurors, pointing their serifs at me, with inquiry and suspicion: Why can’t you paint a second-rate picture? Then they are little forks in the road, poking and insisting, You can only do one.
If you have a career, a relationship, travel – there’s no time for anything else. If you write, perform, create – there’s no money for anything else. So I’m working part-time and writing part-time and the whole thing is a very tall and poorly constructed wedding cake with too many layers – leaning this way and that. How can I keep it together. Who’s going to eat it. I’m not even married.
Just last night, on a family video, I saw this fiendish red-faced red-headed boy, flailing a naked Barbie by the hair. He was intimate with his imagination. Barbie was an actress in his film, a backup singer in his concert, a character in his novel. He made it look so easy. I wanted to be him again.
In case you live in a terrifying world where the Doctor is not present.
You are the new Doctor.
Congratulations of achieving this new level of cool.
You still are him, you know.
And I would eat your cake.
Writing like this reminds me that I want to go live in a cabin somewhere, and take Jane Gallagher with me.
I love you Ben.
It’s sad, isn’t it, the way the “real world” can eat away at the boundless imaginative spirit of a child. Try not to let it muffle you, and I’ll try to do the same.
If you have a career, a relationship, travel – there’s no time for anything else. If you write, perform, create – there’s no money for anything else.
GENIUS. Yet again, I will feed into your ego. I have a relationship and no time for anything else. When I make the attempt to include other things, my relationship suffers. What do you do when you have a relationship which is not funding anything and stealing all your time – and no job, but no motivation to write or perform or create?
It is a depressing state when we forsake the art we love in the pursuit of true love – is there such a thing?