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INTERVIEWER
So many critics equate the success of a writer with an unhappy childhood. Can you say something of your own childhood in Mount Vernon?
E.B. WHITE
As a child, I was frightened but not unhappy. My parents were loving and kind. We were a large family (six children) and were a small kingdom unto ourselves. Nobody ever came to dinner. My father was formal, conservative, successful, hardworking, and worried. My mother was loving, hardworking, and retiring. We lived in a large house in a leafy suburb, where there were backyards and stables and grape arbors. I lacked for nothing except confidence. I suffered nothing except the routine terrors of childhood: fear of the dark, fear of the future, fear of the return to school after a summer on a lake in Maine, fear of making an appearance on a platform, fear of the lavatory in the school basement where the slate urinals cascaded, fear that I was unknowing about things I should know about. I was, as a child, allergic to pollens and dusts, and still am. I was allergic to platforms, and still am. It may be, as some critics suggest, that it helps to have an unhappy childhood. If so, I have no knowledge of it. Perhaps it helps to have been scared or allergic to pollens—I don’t know.
Ana Kraš - Shy Gestures
The Serbian-born artist and designer reveals the origins of her inspiration and the everyday poetry of a creative life.
I never said I was deep, but I am profoundly shallow
My lack of knowledge is vast, and my horizons are narrow.
My absolute favorite on Further Complications.
This is a song that should be heard and yes, I have spent the last two days watching Girls.
may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are oldmay my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it’s sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young
and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there’s never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile— E. E. Cummings
Go and have experiences with your own people. I’ll be right here… I’m a human. I’m not a dog… And you’re a Jack Russell and that’s a breed… Your personality was created by this guy John Russell, who was a hunting enthusiast in the 1800’s. And he bred your ancestors for their stamina and their courage for the hunt. You think you’re you and you want to chase the foxes, but… other people planted that in you years ago. And now somewhat arbitrarily you’re considered very cute by us humans. And we keep breeding you not to chase foxes, but to be cute. And we put you in television shows, and movies, and you’re chasing tennis balls because they’re as close to a fox as you’re gonna get.
BeginnersAngels are the people you meet who show you the most extraordinary things. They may help you overcome adversity, protect you from danger or remind you of who you truly are. Then they completely vanish from your life— just as suddenly as they appeared.
A book is made from a tree. It is an assemblage of flat, flexible parts (still called “leaves”) imprinted with dark pigmented squiggles. One glance at it and you hear the voice of another person, perhaps someone dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, the author is speaking, clearly and silently, inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people, citizens of distant epochs, who never knew one another. Books break the shackles of time, proof that humans can work magic.
Carl Sagan (via zeldawilliams)Gorgeous First Trailer For Michel Gondry’s ‘Mood Indigo’
well, this looks magical.
자꾸만 네가 떠올라, Sinking of you, Daehyun Kim, 2010
The Korean title translates into “i keep thinking of you,” but it literally means “you keep floating up”
and then the English title is “Sinking of you”
so when you think of another person, that mentally woven image will float up to the surface beyond your reach
while you are weighted down by your own obsession.
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- thecrfty: “It’s Moon River—the old standard. But by translating it into Portuguese, the artist makes it anew. Nellie McKay.” via Nathan Sage
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