“The deeper they conceal him—the more remote the cell, the smaller the cell, the colder and stonier the walls of the cell—the more vivid and living is the writer.”
(From Don DeLillo, The Artist Naked in a Cage, An address delivered on 13 May 1997 at the New York Public Library’s event “Stand In for Wei [...]
Hello again, world.
How are you?
It’s easy when you have no choice but to go on.
World, do you have no choice but to go on?
It is hard to express just how excited I am about the Samuel Beckett Symposium which will have performances of Waiting for Godot and Endgame in addition to screenings of things from [...]
Written in Wallsend wondering what the rest of the world was doing on a Saturday morning, thinking that Wallsend sounds like Worldsend, being bored. This might grow and be edited one day, if my characters ever come to life. Wake up, motherfuckers.
Game
Morning blisters through the frosted kitchen windows like the burns on Timmy’s foot Dave’s [...]
When I was living in Adelaide I got real wasted with my flatmates one night and argued for hours about a painting on our wall. I became inspired in that wasted way and wrote down some notes on my ideas. The next night I stayed late at work and wrote this essay. It’s really a [...]
“The scenes of our life resemble pictures in rough mosaic; they are ineffective from close up, and have to be viewed from a distance if they are to seem beautiful. That is why to attain something desired is to discover how vain it is; and why, though we live all our lives in expectation of [...]
“Nufro went ahead and proved mathematically that if you swim to an unknown boat out in the bay who you find owns it could be vastly different from who would have owned it had you taken a canoe there instead”
(Mark Z. Danielewski, “All the Lights of Midnight: Salbatore Nufro Orejón, “The Physics of Eror” and [...]
Sun entering a white room with curtains dancing in the wind off the lake. It was a clear day and the water glinted like heaven. We skimmed the surface in our catamaran leaving clouds of salt-spray hanging in our wake. The world is big enough to never be in the same place twice. Your head [...]
(January 21, In Air, Canberra->Sydney)
“Performance measures … metrics … FTRs … he spent two years with a Spanish generator …”
(Man in white shirt and tie pretends that talking about business precision guarantees him immunity from his fear of flying, but as the lights glint obliquely and the frame rattles he clutches his armrests, closes his [...]