advice to students...

"the work of the art student is no light matter. few have the courage and stamina to see it through. you have to make up your mind to be alone in many ways. we like sympathy and we like to be in company. it is easier than going it alone. but alone one gets acquainted with himself, grows up and on, not stopping with the crowd. it costs to do this. if you succeed somewhat you may have to pay for it as well as enjoy it all your life... don't worry about the rejections. everybody that's good has gone through it. don't let it matter if your works are not 'accepted' at once. the better or more personal you are the less likely  of acceptance. just remember that the object of painting pictures is not simply to get them in exhibitions. it is all very fine to have your pictures hung, but you are painting for yourself, not for the jury. i had many years of rejections..."

robert henri, circa 1915

against ornament...

"it is so funny that nowadays if you read a review of a performance or a recording and the bass player plays fast and high or plays some good solos, he will get special merit, but if he just lays down some good time with a good sound and good intonation, he may not ever be mentioned. you know, when they want to see if someone is dead, they listen for the heartbeat (pulse), maybe that’s what a lot of people think happened to some music."

bassist ray brown, 1972  

eno on lyrics...

brian eno: ‘what i think lyrics have to do is engage a certain part of your brain in a sort of search activity so you brain wants to say ‘here are some provocative clues as to what this song might be about’. they don’t have to be explicit... in fact for me they certainly shouldn’t be explicit.’

cloud capp'd...

            Prospero: our revels are now ended.

            these our actors,

            as i fortold you, were all spirits and

            are melted into the air, into thin air,

            and, like the baseless fabric of this vision,

            the cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous

            places,

            the solemn temples, the great globe itself,

            yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve

            and, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

            leave not a rack behind, we are such stuff

            as dreams are made on, and our little life

            is rounded with a sleep.

           

shakespeare - the tempest.

a group of talking (or listening) pieces of fruit in a cave...

"be still a minute - isn't that a piano playing?" asked connie cranberry.

"it does sound something like a piano," added clara current.

"and so it is, except that it isn't the kind of piano you are thinking of," said moon queen. "jolly jim calls it the 'pebble piano', because each of the keys are made of rock. he is playing upon it now by striking the different rocks with his walking stick. as each rock makes a different tone, he is able to play any tune that he wishes to try."

"ho! ho! you didn't know that i could play the piano, did you?" chuckled jolly jim, after he had rejoined the party. "but i want you also to know that pebble piano can play much louder if a large hammer is used for striking the rocks..."

(from brainy berries - a night in crystal cave, by t.b. faucett, 1924)