Quotes About Expression

Somehow I started introducing writing into my drawings, and after a time, the language took over and I started getting very involved with the handwriting and then the look of the handwriting.

And when we went home he was unnaturally quiet and looked at me as if he wanted to convey all he was feeling without words.

One by one they noted in my reports that I daydreamed far too much, was always somewhere else. Where that somewhere was I cannot say, but it often landed me in the corner sitting on a high stool in full view of all in a conical paper hat.

In art and dream may you proceed with abandon. In life may you proceed with balance and stealth.

So be we king or be we bum the reed still whistles the heart still hums

Then I read Little Women, and of course, like a lot of really young girls, I was very taken with Jo - Jo being the writer and the misfit.

Thank you, I said. I have lived in my own book. One I never planned to write, recording time backwards and forwards.

It occurred to me looking around at all of your things and your work and going through years of work in my mind, that of all your work, you are still your most beautiful. The most beautiful work of all.

He took me in skeptically. "Darling, the ensemble is fabulous," he said, patting my hand, eyeing my black jacket, black tie, black silk shirt, and heavily pegged black satin pants, "but I'm not so sure about the white sneakers." "But they're essential to my costume." "Your costume? What are you dressed as?" "A tennis player in mourning.

We made quite a crew, all talking at once, contradicting and sparring, a cacophony of affectionate arguing.

I followed whatever train I wanted. I wrote without writing—of genies and hustlers and mythic travelers, my vagabondia. Then I would walk back home, happily satisfied, and resume my daily tasks.

I'm a worker. I do the work to communicate, and I want people to embrace it, and when they do I'm happy.

The new artists coming through were very materialistic and Hollywood, not so engaged in communication.

But secretly I knew I had been transformed, moved by the revelation that human beings create art, that to be an artist was to see what others could not.

I raided libraries and church bazaars for art books. It was possible then to find beautiful volumes for next to nothing and I happily dwelt in the world of Modigliani, Dubuffet, Picasso, Fra Angelico, and Albert Ryder.

The moment of creative impulse is what an artist gives you. You look at a Pollock, and it can't give you the tools to do a painting like that yourself, but in doing the work, Pollock shares with you the moment of creative impulse that drove him to do that work.

I stand naked when I draw. God holds my hand and we sing together." His manifesto as an artist.

Free of all expectation or desire, she spun, and was at once the loom, the thread, the strand of gold

This is it, this is mine.

I feel a real responsibility to the images I get attached to.

All writers are bums...

Varför skriver vi? En kör av röster väller fram. För att vi inte bara kan leva.

Varför måste man skriva? För att ställa sig vid sidan om, som i en kokong, försjunken i ensamhet, på trots mot andras behov. Virginia Woolf hade sitt rum. Proust sina stängda fönsterluckor. Marguerite Duras sitt tysta hus. Dylan Thomas sin enkla bod. Alla var de ute efter en tomhet att fylla med ord. Orden som ska tränga in i orörda marker, uppdaga oinmutade associationer, ge uttryck åt oändligheten.

Everything pours forth. Photographs their history. Books their words. Walls their sounds. The spirits rose like an ether that spun an arabesque and touched down as gently as a benevolent mask.