An Artist
"What does it mean "to write well"?
An artist--using the word in its genuine rather than childish meaning-is not a craftsman who knows how to evenly distribute "lively images", "telling details of everyday life", "colorful landscapes", and other trifles in his books; an artist is the one who finds a rhythm unknown before, and enlives and permeates the world he has created by this rhythm."
-Nabokov
Nettie, I am still here like Casper, the friendly ghost, like the little tweety bird always getting into trouble. I posted a comment in one of your earlier posts about an old painting, "Hope," and its wonderful similarity to you (artistically). The coffins are funny especially since I currently work at a cemetery. I have missed you and hope like heck you are back. And thank you, Nettie, for asking. Made my day wonderful already.
Nettie and New Orleans, I hope your 5th year anniversary was more of merriment than melancholy. I have always loved your city, its unique style, its elegant grace, its diversity and class of people, its accents and dialect, its music, its beauty. I am one of those "place people". I love old places. They have soul. I am Thoreauian that way. When the horrible flood hit, it wasn't just the people that were lost and who lost, so, too, did the city and all around it: quaint, beautiful places that shall never be the same again. Prevention, like lighthouses along the lonely shore, sand scattered by the wind and hope for memories new. Peace.
where's willow to make things all creepy?
ReplyDeleteNettie, I am still here like Casper, the friendly ghost, like the little tweety bird always getting into trouble. I posted a comment in one of your earlier posts about an old painting, "Hope," and its wonderful similarity to you (artistically). The coffins are funny especially since I currently work at a cemetery. I have missed you and hope like heck you are back. And thank you, Nettie, for asking. Made my day wonderful already.
ReplyDeleteNettie and New Orleans, I hope your 5th year anniversary was more of merriment than melancholy. I have always loved your city, its unique style, its elegant grace, its diversity and class of people, its accents and dialect, its music, its beauty. I am one of those "place people". I love old places. They have soul. I am Thoreauian that way. When the horrible flood hit, it wasn't just the people that were lost and who lost, so, too, did the city and all around it: quaint, beautiful places that shall never be the same again. Prevention, like lighthouses along the lonely shore, sand scattered by the wind and hope for memories new. Peace.
ReplyDeleteCasper - I don't think it was Nettie that was asking.
ReplyDeletemy bad, my mistake, I am sorry
ReplyDeleteyou're awesome Willow!
ReplyDelete