Wholeness Is The Enemy Of The Artist.

Wholeness Is The Enemy Of The Artist. We Ought To Be Broken, Ruined In Some Way.

I Lived Rough, By My Wits, Was Homeless, Lived On The Streets, Lived On Friends' Floors, Was Happy, Was Miserable.

Who Knows, Maybe This Whole Planet Is An Asylum, A Penal Realm. A Place For Hard Cases.

Without Stories We Would Go Mad. Life Would Lose Its Moorings Or Lose Its Orientations. Even In Silence We Are Living Our Stories

There Ought To Be Three Traditions In The Art Of Humanity: The Realistic, The Visionary And The Wild.