But how awful would that be? How terrible to live surrounded by the stark, sharp, hollowness of things that simply were enough?
Patrick RothfussRead
Then I played the song that hides in the center of me. That wordless music that moves through the secret places in my heart. I played it carefully, strumming it slow and low into the dark stillness of the night. I would like to say it is a happy song, that it is sweet and bright, but it is not.
Interpretation
The quote reflects the deep and often complex emotions associated with artistic expression.
In this quote, Patrick Rothfuss explores the intimate connection between music and the inner self. He conveys that the song he plays is not merely joyful or cheerful but represents a deeper, more nuanced expression of feelings that exist within the quiet, hidden parts of his heart. It emphasizes the idea that true artistry can capture a wide spectrum of emotions, often beyond words, leading to a profound sense of authenticity in one's expression.
In practice
A musician might share this quote during an interview about their creative process.
But how awful would that be? How terrible to live surrounded by the stark, sharp, hollowness of things that simply were enough?
I wanted to tell her that she was the first beautiful thing I had seen in three years. That the sight of her yawning to the back of her hand was enough to drive the breath from me. How I sometimes lost the sense of her words in the sweet fluting of her voice. I wanted to say that if she were with me then somehow nothing could ever be wrong for me again.
Using words to talk of words is like using a pencil to draw a picture of itself, on itself. Impossible. Confusing. Frustrating ... but there are other ways to understanding.
Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest hearts. There are seven words that will make a person love you. There are ten words that will break a strong man's will. But a word is nothing but a painting of a fire. A name is the fire itself.
How odd to watch a mortal kindle / Then to dwindle day by day / Knowing their bright souls are tinder / And the wind will have its way
All the truth in the world is held in stories.
Of all the artists who emerged in the '80s, I think perhaps Cindy Sherman is the most important.
Before I compose a piece, I walk round it several times, accompanied by myself.
All worthy work is open to interpretations the author did not intend. Art isn't your pet -- it's your kid. It grows up and talks back to you.
Good design is a lot like clear thinking made visual.
And that's what art is, a form in which people can reflect on who we are as human beings and come to some understanding of this journey we are on.
The two ideas are antithetical. Insofar as photography is (or should be) about the world, the photographer counts for little, but insofar as it is the instrument of intrepid, questioning subjectivity, the photographer is all.
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