On some level, I think everyone felt like a dork in high school.
Art is the most benign cultural practice, and yet art has an upper bound of personal revelation that is so far away it is basically a horizon.
I don't eat fast food often, but I love tacos. I could write prophetically about how perfect the taco is.
I love art and I think I was destined to end up in some aspect of the arts.
Mistakes quickly pile up and coalesce into a reputation, and a reputation is hard to shake.
I started to write a series of fantasy novels when I was eleven. I have never taken anything artistic as seriously; since then, writing has felt like an attempt to get back there, to my bedroom, my maps, those races and languages and runes.
Every once in awhile, find a spot of shade, sit down on the grass or dirt, and ask yourself this question: “Do I respect myself?” A corollary to this question: “Do I respect the work I’m doing?” If the answer to the latter question is NO, then the answer to the former question will probably be NO too. If this is the case, wait a few weeks, then ask yourself the same two questions. If the answers are still NO, quit.
I was a nothing kid. Not particularly good. Not particularly bad.
In the shallow parts of many Swiss lakes, where there is a depth of no more than from 5 to 15 feet of water, ancient wooden piles are observed at the bottom sometimes worn down to the surface of the mud, sometimes projecting slightly above it.
But-! I say! The common conventions of humanity-' 'Are all very well for common people.
A day of minor profit or prophet led to a night of drunkenness.