It's a big enough umbrella, but it's always me that ends up getting wet.
StingRead
I don't need to manufacture trauma in my life to be creative. I have a big enough reservoir of sadness or emotional trauma to last me.
Interpretation
Creativity can arise from genuine experiences rather than forced negativity.
In this quote, Sting emphasizes that true creativity does not require the artificial inflating of emotional struggles or trauma. Instead, he suggests that authentic experiences of sadness or emotional distress can provide ample inspiration for artistic expression, highlighting the importance of genuine feelings over manufactured hardship.
In practice
A speaker at an art workshop may use this quote to encourage participants to embrace their true feelings.
It's a big enough umbrella, but it's always me that ends up getting wet.
Success always necessitates a degree of ruthlessness. Given the choice of friendship or success, I'd probably choose success.
If you make your living writing, and you can't write anything, it's over. It's very frightening.
It's never easy to write a song. It's the most difficult thing I do.
I see music as one language. If one musical form eats its own tail, it dies. So it needs to be a mongrel, it needs to be hybridised.
There's no religion but sex and music.
From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.
The theme of the diary is always the personal, but it does not mean only a personal story: it means a personal relationship to all things and people. The personal, if it is deep enough, becomes universal, mythical, symbolic; I never generalize, intellectualise. I see, I hear, I feel. These are my primitive elements of discovery. Music, dance, poetry and painting are the channels for emotion. It is through them that experience penetrates our bloodstream.
I have written a great many stories and I still don't know how to go about it except to write it and take my chances.
When I'm writing, I'm trying to immerse myself in the chaos of an emotional experience, rather than separate myself from it and look back at it from a distance with clarity and tell it as a story. Because that's how life is lived, you know?
The last time I saw her was red. The sky was like soup, boiling and stirring. In some places, it was burned. There were black crumbs, and pepper, streaked across the redness.
Every poem is a momentary stay against the confusion of the world.
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