Tag Archives: writing
I wanted to spend some time in German. This is a more-or-less faithful transcription of my time there.
“My father spends entire weekends in his studio. A painter must never be satisfied with what he sees – painting reality means surrendering to it, he cries when I knock at the door to say the air’s leaking out of my soccer ball, or the inner tube of my bike tire.”
“Oh, wretched is the woman that lets herself be impregnated by the words of men…” Giambattista Basile (The Tale of Tales 192)
So, I recently moved from Canada to Argentina. Culture shock isn’t something I feel very often, but I was definitely expecting more of it this time. That said, I think this has been a more painless process than expected because I’m cocooned in a bubble inhabited by thesis-writing and an English-speaking partner who came complete with an apartment for […]
“Why do you write such crap these days,” she asked, looking up,“when we both know you can write so beautifully?” He shrugged. “If everything were beautiful, beauty would lose its value.” “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” she replied.
“Why do we love looking up?” she asked, looking up. “How did we know that heaven was above us and not below us?” “Or right in front of us,” he replied pointedly, looking at her. “Or right in front of us,” she agreed, but her eyes were still on the sky.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her. She looked down at her body and laughed. “This is nothing,” she said. “You should see me in writing.”