If you’re going to try
If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery–isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you’re going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It’s the only good fight there is.
― Charles Bukowski, Factotum
Another Rainy Day
Rain, rain, rain.
“It will rain all this night and we will sleep transfixed by the dark water as our blood runs through our fragile life.”
― Charles Bukowski
A poster, at the end of it’s life.
I prefer the B/W version.
These are shot with my old Canon EOS 300D camera. Still can’t get enough?
Here’s more rain:
There’s nothing to mourn about…
There’s nothing to mourn about death any more than there is to mourn about the growing of a flower. What is terrible is not death but the lives people live or don’t live up until their death. They don’t honor their own lives, they piss on their lives. They shit them away. Dumb fuckers. They concentrate too much on fucking, movies, money, family, fucking. Their minds are full of cotton. They swallow God without thinking, they swallow country without thinking. Soon they forget how to think, they let others think for them. Their brains are stuffed with cotton. They look ugly, they talk ugly, they walk ugly. Play them the great music of the centuries and they can’t hear it. Most people’s deaths are a sham. There’s nothing left to die.
― Charles Bukowski
The People Look Like Flowers at Last
“Those faces you see every day on the streets were not created entirely without hope: be kind to them: like you they have not escaped.”
― Charles Bukowski, The People Look Like Flowers at Last
What makes a man a writer?
He asked, “What makes a man a writer?” “Well,” I said, “it’s simple. You either get it down on paper, or jump off a bridge.
Quote: Charles Bukowski
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flickrcomments.wordpress.com – The W-challenge
abcnellibell49.wordpress.com – w-archive
craftcrazygran.wordpress.com – w-challenge
A day at the Delhi Derby
Some years back I ended up living in Delhi for a period of 3-4 months, which means that I’ve pretty much seen & experienced, if not everything, then at least most of what Delhi has to offer – both touristy & non-touristy things. Some of the stuff I’ve seen/done several times: During my stay I met many backpackers and I frequently joined them to check out different places in Delhi, which resulted in me experiencing recurring deja-vu’s… (hmm… haven’t I seen this place before..?)
The Place Where I Create(d)
I’ve started stalking this blog (stalking sounds more fun & more creepy than following…) – latebloomerbuds.wordpress.com – and she wrote a post about her workspace called “Where I create”.
Her post is inspired by some women’s magazine where the readers gets the opportunity to get an insight into the studios & workspaces of female, high-profile artists (“regular” artists and craft divas from all over the world are featured as well). So, I figured: maybe I’ll write about my workspace?
He said/she said: