With music, with composition, I’m almost never done all the way, and I’ve had songs change on me after two years or more of playing as they were.

I tell my son, “one advantage to being a painter is that not as many people tell you to PAINT THAT PAINTING I SAW YOU PAINT,” whereas in music, or acting, people tend to stick the creator in a box of sorts.

Thanks; now I’m feeling a little more creative again.

You know, you sure can ruin a lot of dishes by overheating the ingredients.

The dishes that get served when the meal is placed on the table is generally a surprise to me, too lol.

…actually I’m always surprised to find that there even is a dish.

…make of that what you will, but I get Cohen’s point lol.

And Paul A’Barge? – Gawd forbid that we ever again come to accept a 2000 plus page omnibus bill in Congress as some form of “art” LOL.

— Lenny Cohen

A fascinating article at the Atlantic on genius, insanity and the creative process:

http://www.theatlantic.com/features/archive/2014/06/secrets-of-the-creative-brain/372299/

A couple of surprising highlights:
– After a certain level is reached (maybe 130 IQ), higher IQ doesn’t correlate to greater success in your field.
– “Creative geniuses,” those who are on the cutting edge of their fields, have not only high IQ but also high-functioning “associative cortexes.” These are regions of the brain that coordinate between disparate areas, and form cognitive connections that aren’t obvious to others.

Good article.

“And for the tender mother
Who dandled him to rest,
And for the wife who nurses
His baby at her breast,
And for the holy maidens
Who feed the eternal flame,–
To save them from false Sextus
That wrought the deed of shame?

“Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,
With all the speed ye may;
I, with two more to help me,
Will hold the foe in play.
In yon strait path a thousand
May well be stopped by three:
Now who will stand on either hand,
And keep the bridge with me?”

Rome Horatius at the Bridge
Thomas Babington, Lord Macaulay (1800—1859)

You were sick and tired and we all knew,
that God would soon come to take you.
You fought so hard, so very long,
but through the pain, you stayed strong.

We all knew there would come a day,
when God would come to carry you away.
It doesn’t make it easier to say goodbye,
and I try so hard not to cry.

I can’t help but feel defeated,
or even maybe a little cheated.
But how very selfish would I be,
to hope and pray you could stay with me.

So as you laid there tubes running to and fro,
I had to tell you “It’s ok to go”.
Say “Hi” to loved ones waiting on the other side.
I know some day; you’ll be there when I take that ride.

If–
By Rudyard Kipling
(‘Brother Square-Toes’–Rewards and Fairies)

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings–nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And–which is more–you’ll be a Man, my son!

The artist can control his craft, and may spend a lifetime honing it, but it is all in the service of capturing an inspiration that he only channels. He creates art from the inspiration, but does not create the original inspiration.

When there’s no inspiration, he can still create art using his craft, but then it’s just mimicry, even when it’s a modified copy of past inspiration for that artist. Observers may not be able to see the difference and hail the new ‘original’ creation. But the artist knows the difference, all too painfully.

A butterfly lights beside us like a sunbeam. and for a brief moment it’s glory and beauty belong to our world. but then it flies on again, and though we wish it could have stayed, we feel so lucky to have seen it

Falling sick on a journey
my dream goes wandering
over a field of dried grass – Basho

Death is lighter than a feather
but Duty is heavier than a mountain – First Precept of the Imperial Rescript to Soldiers and Sailors, written in 1883 Meiji Period of Japan

There ain’t no way you can hold onto something that wants to go, you understand? You can only love what you got while you got it.

don’t want just words. If that’s all you have for me, you’d better go- F Scott Fitzgerald..

Things are sweeter when they’re lost. I know–because once I wanted something and got it. It was the only thing I ever wanted badly, Dot, and when I got it it turned to dust in my hand F Scott Fitzgerald

…wouldn’t wait very long.

I’m goin’, I’m—, I’m stayin’, but—

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bY-zmJ1VCQI

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1mRec3VbH3w

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

another, same author

And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan’t crack;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.