I keep referring to this Pablo Neruda quote in hopes that it will apply to me, but in the most strengthening and lucrative way possible. It is associated with the waves, and how they are "torn down a thousand/times a thousand," but "a thousand/times resurrected." Well, the number may be arbitrary, but writing's a game that will surely bring you onto the same field of play.
I'm in the middle of writing a review (I don't like to call it anything close to criticism) of Jollaine's "A Gotham Girl's Secret Guide to Sex and Politics." I mean, it was Hemingway who said that critics are the people up on a hill looking down on a war-torn battlefield, shooting the only survivors. Only ego-driven little boys with penis envy and cruelty in their hearts could take up this position.
There will be a posted link asap. This assignment is certainly put under my resurrection category.
January calls up my narrative skills as I am going on a short tour with the band Silent Mind, out of Burlington, Vermont. A rock band emerging out of the jam-band ashes Phish left over Burlington, Silent Mind's a group of three talented musicians who want to melt fans' faces.
Is it the curse of all artists' to ride the same wave?
