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writers
terry pratchett
neil gaiman
good omens
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Y todas las noches bajo la vía láctea parecen eternas
I gave my first ever commencement speech to the graduating class of 2012 at the University of the Arts in Philadelphia.
I think I told them everything important that I knew about going out into the world and being an artist, so I may never need to give another one.
And remember that whatever discipline you are in, whether you are a musician or a photographer, a fine artist or a cartoonist, a writer, a dancer, a designer, whatever you do you have one thing that’s unique. You have the ability to make art.
And for me, and for so many of the people I have known, that’s been a lifesaver. The ultimate lifesaver. It gets you through good times and it gets you through the other ones.
Life is sometimes hard. Things go wrong, in life and in love and in business and in friendship and in health and in all the other ways that life can go wrong. And when things get tough, this is what you should do.
Make good art.
I’m serious. Husband runs off with a politician? Make good art. Leg crushed and then eaten by mutated boa constrictor? Make good art. IRS on your trail? Make good art. Cat exploded? Make good art. Somebody on the Internet thinks what you do is stupid or evil or it’s all been done before? Make good art. Probably things will work out somehow, and eventually time will take the sting away, but that doesn’t matter. Do what only you do best. Make good art.
Make it on the good days too.
Listen.
(Source: vimeo.com)
I was with Amanda in Denton, Texas, when she went to do a session of three songs, and an interview. Mostly I sat and wrote while a cat tried to make me stop writing and love her.
Amanda suggested I sing Psycho as one of the three songs, so I did…
I am not going to post the third video here. That’s the one where Amanda plays “In My Mind” on the omnichord (is that what it was called?) while I attempt to distract her with a giant horse-headed sock on a stick.
(Source: violitionist.com)
Do you prefer a book that makes you laugh or makes you cry? One that teaches you something or one that distracts you?
Yes.
Wait, do you think those things are exclusive? That books can only be one or the other? I would rather read a book with all of those things in it: a laughing, crying, educating, distracting book. And I would like more than that, the kind of book where the pages groan under the weight of keeping all such opposites apart.
For those you of who read (or heard) my piece on attending the 2010 Oscars, here’s a detail from the photo I talk about at the end…
We head down into the throng, behind someone in a beautiful dress. It looks like a watercolour of a dream. I have no idea who anyone is, except for Steve Carell, because he looks just like Steve Carell on television, except a tiny bit less orange.
We are scrunched together tightly as we go through metal detectors, and the beautiful watercolour dress is trodden on, and the lady wearing it is very gracious about this.
I ask Deette who’s inside the dress, and she tells me it’s Rachel McAdams. I want to say hello – Rachel’s said nice things about me in interviews – but she’s working right now. I’m not. No one wants to take my photo, or, Deette discovers, to interview me. I’m invisible.
At the bend in the red carpet we pause. I look down at Rachel McAdams’s watercolour dress and wonder if I can see a footprint.
(Source: bookphilia)