Edna: Blunder into this, you old coot.
Phil: Who, me? It wasn’t me who smashed up the Buick last week.
Edna: You’re a coward to bring that up, Phil.
Phil: A coward? have you called me that yet today?
Edna: Probably once or twice.
Phil: Edna, I want a divorce.
Edna: I know, that’s part of your charm.
Alfred: How are we supposed to announce the time of our deaths while we’re still alive?
Isn’t that the doctor’s job?
E. Newman: Budget cuts.
Monk: Are we building something?
I swear the girders weren’t here yesterday.
Thistle: Hm, don’t think so.
You don’t have any paint.
Monk: What’s paint got to do with it?
Thistle: Good question. Let me ask my thesaurus.
Says here a girder is like a beam.
Monk: Oh, well that changes everything.
I seem to have burnt my envelope, oh dear.
Now how could that have happened?
I rolled out of bed, put the iron on a curtain,
then oh…
Now the house is gone.
Family too. Went to Pittsburgh.
I have to clean this for myself.
Well, I’ll probably just hire someone;
a contractor with a crew and equipment.
I’ll go to a hotel, eat the chocolate
on my pillow. I hope it’s filled with mint.
Create an image with no prior knowledge and you feel the vibrance of your purest thoughts. What good is research for innate ideas? To compare yours with others? For what purpose? We’re all tuned for our own world filters, and inferring conclusions from differing views only serves to separate and dilute experiences.
If you truly wish to create, you begin with your inner image. You don’t look at your predecessors when you’re about to make something. Do you think that’s how they did it? Perhaps to understand the breadth of the craft and better utilize the medium, but not to create their own unprecedented works.
Trust your intuition and connection with whatever it is that you like to call your inspiration / muse / God. You know what feels right for your method and execution. Pursue it.
What is implied within a statement / a volley of statements can be richer than the content itself.
Context enlightens content as the author provides consent to their private convent.
Exposition need not occur to fill in the gaps.
Imagination is man’s most powerful tool, has been for a long time.
Bent twiggy licking finger midgets hover tomorrow, but not when the ice cream truck stalls on the corner. Never when the ice cream truck stalls on the corner.
But you know the time has blossomed when those rats reach out for their most, you know that time has blossomed.
Rugs roll themselves into Lake Superior, Lake Superior frowns upon them. Under the toe of a mighty Joe Stallion, we roll through our river walk with a mischievous grin, mischievous grin.
Cringe and throttle that barrel-necked orphan cherry.
Cringe and throttle that barrel-necked orphan cherry.
WHARVED 