Will the theater disappear? No. Is it healthy? Also no.
To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.
Literature is a state of culture, poetry is a state of grace, before and after culture.
A Classical style... is the syllogism of art, the only legitimate process from one world to another. Classicism is not the manner of any fixed age or of any fixed country; it is a constant state of the artistic mind. It is a temper of security and satisfaction and patience.
Just as the creative artist is not allowed to choose, neither is he permitted to turn his back on anything: a single refusal, and he is cast out of the state of grace and becomes sinful all the way through.
(Jean) Fautrier's exhibition (in Paris 1945,fh) made an extremely strong impression on me. Art had never before appeared so fully realised in its pure state. The word 'art' had never before been so loaded with meaning for me.
A poet soaring in the high reason of his fancies, with his garland and singing robes about him.
In the creative state a man is taken out of himself.
Whatever you feel or think your exact state at the exact moment of your brush touching the canvas is in some way registered in that stroke.
Our literature is in great shape.
In the midst of creating, a person is raised to another level of consciousness that doesn't have that much to do with everyday thinking. It's as if you could imagine life before there were words.
It’s about reaching that moment of pure ecstasy when a drawing just happens. Where every move you make with your hand and every thought you have in your head grows in front of you without any mistakes; no rubbing out, starting again and getting frustrated. It’s like being in a trance - it’s a fluid - and you almost don’t remember doing the picture. Drawing is an escape from all the unnecessary things in life that get in the way of being free.
There's part of our brain that we shut off when we're in the studio. There's part of our brain that we turn on when we are out doing an interview or promoting something or waking up at six in the morning for hair and makeup.
I wrote my second novel, 'A Little Life,' in what I still think of as a fever dream: For 18 months, I was unable to properly concentrate on anything else.
