V60

D22

Memories of Dogtown

lkj




















Ja15

Si no pudimos ser unanimes
moviendo tanto nuestras vidas,
tal vez no hacer nada una vez,
tal vez un gran silencio pueda
interrumpir esta tristeza,
este no entendernos jamas
y amenazarnos con la muerte,
tal vez la tierra nos ensenie
cuando todo parece muerto
y luego todo estaba vivo.

Neruda

If we were not so singleminded about keeping our lives moving, and for once could do nothing, perhaps a huge silence might interrupt this sadness of never understanding ourselves and threatening ourselves with death. Perhaps the earth can teach us, as when everything seems dead and later proves to be alive.

F1

JA16

The poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, and hide in cooling trees,
a voice will run from hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
that is the grasshopper’s—he takes the lead in summer luxury,—
he has never done with his delights; for, when tired out with fun,
he rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.

The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
on a lone winter evening, when the frost has wrought a silence,
from the stove there shrills the cricket’s song,
in warmth increasing ever, and seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
the grasshopper’s among some grassy hills.

John Keats

D11

Twyla Tharp wrote that when you create something, whether it's a dance, a novel, or a painting, you have to keep its "spine" in mind the whole way through. By "spine" she meant: the statement you make to yourself outlining your intentions for the work. "If you stick to your spine, the piece will work. When you lose your way, it will show you the way home.
You might not think you want spine. You might think you don't need a supporting mechanism for the art you're constructing, a controlling image, a collateral idea to guide you.
You might think that getting lost is a big part of the adventure.

You might think that,
but you'd be wrong."