Every year I’m surprised by how much spring looks like autumn. I’ll walk to work, delighting in the crab apples blooming pink or the fruit trees snowing petals, then do a double-take: The elm shakes with brown seeds; the maple’s winged clusters are bright red.
The fact that the artistic process includes emptiness says something important, I think, about creation itself. Emptiness is part of becoming.
You’ve got to deconstruct the old to make room for the new, whether it’s a hallway or a soul. Or, in the case of writers, a rough draft. Or, in the case of climate change, old energy dependencies. Or, in the case of a broken democracy, old complacencies.
The last thing that we find in making a book is to know what we must put first. –Blaise Pascal Why do new writers assume they must begin writing at the beginning and end at the end? Of course this is a silly question. We read from beginning to end, so this order seems obvious. …