"I should advise you to put it all down as beautifully as you can- in some beautifully bound book. It will seem as if you were making the visions banal- but then you need to do that- then you are freed from the power of them... Then when these things are in some precious book you can go to the book & turn over the pages & for you it will be your church- your cathedral- the silent places of your spirit where you will find renewal. If anyone tells you that it is morbid or neurotic and you listen to them- then you will lose your soul- for in that book is your soul."

Carl Jung

from the sketchbook-

'out on a limb in the dark'

8x15"

"It is the first vision that counts. The artist has only to remain true to his dream and it will possess his work in such a manner that it will resemble the work of no other... for no two visions are alike, and those who reach the heights have all toiled up steep mountains by a different route. To each has been revealed a different panorama."

Albert Pinkham Ryder

"Was there ever a more horrible blasphemy than the statement that all the knowledge of God is confined to this or that book? How dare men call God infinite, and yet try to compress Him within the covers of a little book!"

Swami Vivekananda

"I would hope that my music is smarter, stronger than I am. It should be elastic and sophisticated enough to endure many listenings, many interpretations. It's like scrambling onto the roof from the highest rung of the ladder which lies just beneath the lip of the roof. Every musical thing I do is like jumping onto the roof from that rung. Higher, better than I can be most of the time."

Patricia Barber from her blog

"How life is strange and changeful, and the crystal is in the steel at the point of fracture, and the toad bears a jewel in its forehead, and the meaning of moments passes like breeze that scarcely ruffles the leaves of willows. "

from All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren

found at ferry bar park today

while scavenging for styrofoam

for an installation at school 33 in january

"For the sake of a few lines one must see many cities, men and things. One must know the animals, one must feel how the birds fly and know the gesture with which the small flowers open in the morning. One must be able to think back to roads in unknown regions, to unexpected meetings and to partings which one had long seen coming; to days of childhood that are still unexplained, to parents that one had to hurt when they brought one some joy and one did not grasp it (it was joy for someone else); to childhood illness that so strangely began with a number of profound and grave transformations, to days in rooms withdrawn and quiet and to mornings by the sea, to the sea itself, to seas, to nights of travel that rushed along on high and flew with all the stars-and it is not enough if one may think all of this. One must have memories of many nights of love, none of which was like the others, of the screams of women in labor, and of light, white, sleeping women in childbed, closing again. But one must also have been beside the dying, one must have sat beside the dead in the room with the open window and the fitful noises. And still it is not enough to have memories. One must be able to forget them when they are many, and one must have the great patience to wait until they come again. For it is not yet the memories themselves. Not until they have turned to blood within us, to glance, to gesture, nameless and no longer to be distinguished from ourselves-not until then can it happen that in a most rare hour the first word of a verse arises in their midst and goes forth from them."
from 'The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge' by Rainer Maria Rilke