The debt we owe to the play of imagination is incalculable.
Carl Gustav Jung
Speculative Fiction and Poetry
23 Apr 2017 Leave a comment
20 Apr 2017 Leave a comment
When nothing seems to help, I go and look at a stone cutter, hammering away at his rock, perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it.
Yet at the hundred and first blow it will split in two, and I know it was not that blow that did it–but all that had gone before.
19 Apr 2017 Leave a comment
Don’t be afraid to take a big step if one is indicated. You can’t cross a chasm in two small jumps.
David Lloyd George
18 Apr 2017 Leave a comment
Inevitably, you react to your own work–you like it, you don’t like it, you think it’s interesting or boring–and it is difficult to accept that those reactions may be unreliable. In my experience, they are. I mistrust either wild enthusiasm or deep depression. I have had the best success with materials that I was sort of neutral about…
15 Mar 2017 Leave a comment
21 Apr 2015 Leave a comment
14 Apr 2015 Leave a comment
“– it was his business to help them play. He could think of nothing better to do with his life, for he knew that when they felt free to play, their souls showed; who they were came out more clearly than at almost any other time. And the more one got used to letting one’s self show, unafraid, the more joy came walking into one’s life. And then the Self showed itself still more–and the cycle continued, joy engendering joy, endless. He leaned on the wall, warm with the thought of what his work was freeing those around him to be.”
p. 234 THE WOUNDED SKY by Diane Duane (a Star Trek novel)