The Top 10 Best Novels of 2014

10. The Beekeeper’s Daughter by Sissy Sextuplington

By turns uproarious, scandalous, and emotionally-moving, this kaleidoscopic novel tells the multi-generational story of the Apis clan, from their humble beginnings starting a clandestine honey-service in the catacombs of Ellis Island in the 1890s, to their triumphant crest in the honey-boom of the Buzzing Twenties, to their decline and rebirth from their own ashes/wax over the course of the 20th century. This sting stuns!

9. Cacanisius’ Crossing by Caomh-Caolan FitzSimmons-Hughes

How wonderful that this “lost classic” has been recovered anew! FitzSimmons-Hughes of course wrote the novel over a series of decades; each section was written in the language of the European country he was living in self-imposed exile in at the time. Cacanisius’ Crossing was then translated into Irish Gaelic, and has finally been translated into English. The 1085-page story details the last five minutes in the life of its central character. Kaleidoscopically stunning.

8. Dovetail by Samuel Samold

In this dystopian romance-thriller, society is split into two groups: those who have earned their genetically-grafted tails, and those who must go “SansTail.” Will plucky Becky Fang pass the Trials of Wattle and earn her place in the dominant tribe (along with dreamboat Crispin’s affection)—or will she follow the strange mysteries of the secret resistance force, The Cloacal Tunnel? A compelling stunner.

7. The Kite Runner 2 by Khaled Hosseini

The whole book club bawled. Again.

6. Jimmy Hat Johannson and the Crystal Creeper Caper (A Charleston ‘Nights’ Mystery) by Edwin Turner

I feel a little weird putting my own NaNoWriMo novel on here—not the least because it hasn’t come out yet (FS&G in hardback in the US, March 2016; Penguin in the UK, Australia, Canada, and NZ in May 2016; Japanese and Latvian translations TBD)—but it’s really, really good. I even let a friend look over it to check for any bad writing (there wasn’t any) before I sent it to the Wylie Agency. The plot: Jimmy Hat Johansson is just a good ole boy from a backwoods burg…but a summer job with his Uncle Ray’s lawn business plunges him headfirst into a world of sinister intrigue–housewife murderesses, a corrupt sheriff, and a crystal meth syndicate!

5. The Lumberjack’s Apprentice by Knob Hayden

Knob Hayden’s remarkable journey comes to life in this remarkable collection of stories (The Lumberjack’s Apprentice is a novel-in-stories). Remarkably, this book was Hayden’s thesis for an experimental MFA program offered by the EGS (via Transylvania University, Kentucky). Each short story is a remarkable entry in this angry young man’s tour-de-force-of-truth. Hayden is only 24, but he’s hardly tender—six days as a lumberjack’s apprentice will roughen any soft palms! Our hero also tries his hand as a busboy, a mail clerk at Monsanto, and a cabin boy. This guy has definitely read Jesus’ Son!

4. Working On My Screenplay by Angela Criss

Kudos to Penguin for this achievement. This is a book of tweets from people who have included the phrase “working on my screenplay” in their tweet, interspersed with sketches of kittens. Sure, you might criticize it as lazy, not particularly insightful, barely interesting, the sort of joke that others like John Cage played decades ago, a gimmick, cruel, boring, or smug. But it’s art and it’s subversive and it provides much-needed metacommentary and it can be yours for only 10 bucks!

3. Too Many Cooks: The Novelization by Jonathan Franzen

Stunningly remarkable work from Franzen, who slowly teases out the Adult Swim’s immediate cult-classic 11-minute video to 475 pages in this sweeping multigenerational epic. Stunning to think that Mr. Franzen never even watched the short film!

2. Brooklyn Novel Title TK  by Daktoa Rugburn

Wyoming Strongniece has no idea what to do after college—an internship at a Fortune 500 company offered by one of her father’s friends? An experimental MFA program offered by the EGS? Should she work the summer at her favorite bar, making artisanal cocktails for the surly locals, and continue to support her suicidal roommate Hershey as she tries to launch her acting career? Or maybe—just maybe—she can have it all. A dazzling debut sure to stun and reward.

1. The Sector of Attention by Moses Kingson

In vivid prose, Kingson’s unforgettable 27th novel explores the nadirs and acmes of the human soul. A swirling kaleidoscope of epiphanies and soul-searching, this kaleidoscopic stunner makes us reexamine all we thought we knew about WWII. I can’t wait to actually read it.

D.H. Lawrence Revises Benjamin Franklin’s 13 Virtues

In his Autobiography, Benjamin Franklin inventoried his thirteen virtues:

1. TEMPERANCE
Eat not to fulness; drink not to elevation.

2. SILENCE
Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation.

3. ORDER
Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time.

4. RESOLUTION
Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve.

5. FRUGALITY
Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself i.e., waste nothing.

6. INDUSTRY
Lose no time, be always employed in something useful; cut off all unnecessary action.

7. SINCERITY
Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly, and, if you speak, speak accordingly.

8. JUSTICE
Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that are your duty.

9. MODERATION
Avoid extremes, forbear resenting injuries as much as you think they deserve.

10. CLEANLINESS
Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, clothes, or habitation.

11. TRANQUILLITY
Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable.

12. CHASTITY
Rarely use venery but for health and offspring, never to dulness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another’s peace or reputation.

13. HUMILITY
Imitate Jesus and Socrates.

D.H. Lawrence revised them—for himself, of course—in Studies in Classic American Literature:

1. TEMPERANCE
Eat and carouse with Bacchus, or munch dry bread with Jesus, but don’t sit down without one of the gods.

2. SILENCE
Be still when you have nothing to say; when genuine passion moves you, say what you’ve got to say, and say it hot.

3. ORDER
Know that you are responsible to the gods inside you and to the men in whom the gods are manifest. Recognize your superiors and your inferiors, according to the gods. This is
the root of all order.

4. RESOLUTION
Resolve to abide by your own deepest promptings, and to sacrifice the smaller thing to the greater. Kill when you must, and be killed the same: the must coming from the gods inside you, or from the men in whom you recognize the Holy Ghost.

5. FRUGALITY
Demand nothing; accept what you see fit. Don’t waste your pride or squander your emotion.

6. INDUSTRY
Lose no time with ideals; serve the Holy Ghost; never serve mankind.

7. SINCERITY
To be sincere is to remember that I am I, and that the other man is not me.

8. JUSTICE
The only justice is to follow the sincere intuition of the soul, angry or gentle. Anger is just, and pity is just, but judgement is never just.

9. MODERATION
Beware of absolutes. There are many gods.

10. CLEANLINESS
Don’t be too clean. It impoverishes the blood.

11. TRANQUILITY
The soul has many motions, many gods come and go. Try and find your deepest issue, in every confusion, and abide by that. Obey the man in whom you recognize the Holy Ghost; command when your honour comes to command.

12. CHASTITY
Never ‘use’ venery at all. Follow your passional impulse, if it be answered in the other being; but never have any motive in mind, neither offspring nor health nor even pleasure, nor even service. Only know that ‘venery’ is of the great gods. An offering-up of yourself to the very great gods, the dark ones, and nothing else.

13. HUMILITY
See all men and women according to the Holy Ghost that is within them. Never yield before the barren.

List with No Name #47

  1. Charles Weedon Westover killed himself on February 8th, 1990.
  2. He was 55.
  3. He shot himself in the head with a .22-caliber rifle.
  4. Between the eye and the ear.
  5. The right eye and the right ear.
  6. The temple.
  7. Charles Weedon Westover was better known by his stage name, Del Shannon.
  8. The name printed on his death certificate is “Charles Weedon Westover” though.
  9. CWW found success as Del Shannon, performing and recording the song “Runaway.”
  10. The 7″ 45rpm recording of “Runaway” became a number one Billboard hit in the United States of America in February of 1961.
  11. “Runaway” was the number one hit in America for four weeks.
  12. It was later a number one hit in the United Kingdom.
  13. And Australia.
  14. But it was not a number one hit in 1967, when CWW as Del Shannon rerecorded it as “Runaway ’67.”
  15. In fact, “Runaway ’67” failed to chart.
  16. CWW, under the name Del Shannon, wrote “Runaway” with Max Crook.
  17. Crook played the strange, dark, jaunty, bipolar solo in “Runaway.”
  18. Crook played the solo on a musical instrument of his own invention, a type of early electronic synthesizer he called the Musitron.
  19. Crook’s Musitron was a modified version of an earlier synthesizer, the clavioline (similar, of course, to an ondioline).
  20. Perhaps Crook’s most significant modification was adding reverb to his organ via a custom-built echo chamber that incorporated garden gate springs.
  21. Crook’s solo is the haunting spirit of a haunting song.
  22. Or maybe the haunting spirit is actually CWW/DS’s falsetto, which cracks through the piano and baritone sax approximately 45 seconds into the song, announcing that the narrator wah-wah-wah-wah-wonders why why why why why why she ran away.
  23. The lyric is simple but also dark, portentous, loaded with a primal anxiety that hints at outright menace.
  24. Why a “runaway”?
  25. Why did she run away?
  26. And why does the narrator want her there with him, walking in the rain?
  27. (To end this misery).
  28. CWW continued recording and performing as Del Shannon for the rest of his life.
  29. His final performance was in Fargo, ND, not a week before his suicide.
  30. Of course he sang “Runaway” there.
  31. It was his biggest hit.
  32. None of his other songs came even close.
  33. He did the alcoholic thing, the drug addict thing, and then the AA thing.
  34. He was, by all accounts, a life-long manic depressive.
  35. And many claimed a kind man.
  36. A generous man.
  37. He played “Runaway” on the David Letterman Show in 1986, shouting the song but hitting the falsetto.
  38. (Back in 1961, Harry Balk, who produced “Runaway,” had to speed up the recording–from an A minor to a B flat–to match CWW’s vocal–he was nervous and flat).
  39. Shirley Westover, his wife of 31 years, had left him the year before his Letterman appearance.
  40. CWW remarried in 1987. He married a neighbor’s daughter, Bonnie Tyson (also known as LeAnne Gutierrez), who was half his age at the time of the marriage.
  41. Bonnie found CWW’s body.
  42. Slumped in a rocking chair, wearing his bathrobe but not his hair piece.
  43. He was working on music with Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne around the time of his death.
  44. And clearly a Wilbury in spirit.
  45. CWW has no grave.

“Titles for Unwritten Articles, Essays, and Stories” — Samuel Butler

“Titles for Unwritten Articles, Essays, and Stories”

from Samuel Butler’s Note-Books

  1. The Art of Quarrelling.
  2. Christian Death-beds.
  3. The Book of Babes and Sucklings.
  4. Literary Struldbrugs.
  5. The Life of the World to Come.
  6. The Limits of Good Faith.
  7. Art, Money and Religion.
  8. The Third Class Excursion Train, or Steam-boat, as the Church of the Future.
  9. The Utter Speculation involved in much of the good advice that is commonly given—as never to sell a reversion, etc.
  10. Tracts for Children, warning them against the virtues of their elders.
  11. Making Ready for Death as a Means of Prolonging Life.  An Essay concerning Human Misunderstanding.  So McCulloch [a fellow art-student at Heatherley’s, a very fine draughtsman] used to say that he drew a great many lines and saved the best of them.  Illusion, mistake, action taken in the dark—these are among the main sources of our progress.
  12. The Elements of Immorality for the Use of Earnest Schoolmasters.
  13. Family Prayers: A series of perfectly plain and sensible ones asking for what people really do want without any kind of humbug.
  14. A Penitential Psalm as David would have written it if he had been reading Herbert Spencer.
  15. A Few Little Crows which I have to pick with various people.
  16. The Scylla of Atheism and the Charybdis of Christianity.
  17. The Battle of the Prigs and Blackguards.
  18. That Good may Come.
  19. The Marriage of Inconvenience.
  20. The Judicious Separation.
  21. Fooling Around.
  22. Higgledy-Piggledy.
  23. The Diseases and Ordinary Causes of Mortality among Friendships.
  24. The finding a lot of old photographs at Herculaneum or Thebes; and they should turn out to be of no interest.
  25. On the points of resemblance and difference between the dropping off of leaves from a tree and the dropping off of guests from a dinner or a concert.
  26. The Sense of Touch: An essay showing that all the senses resolve themselves ultimately into a sense of touch, and that eating is touch carried to the bitter end.  So there is but one sense—touch—and the amœba has it.  When I look upon the foraminifera I look upon myself.
  27. The China Shepherdess with Lamb on public-house chimney-pieces in England as against the Virgin with Child in Italy.
  28. For a Medical pamphlet: Cant as a means of Prolonging Life.
  29. For an Art book: The Complete Pot-boiler; or what to paint and how to paint it, with illustrations reproduced from contemporary exhibitions and explanatory notes.
  30. For a Picture: St. Francis preaching to Silenus.  Fra Angelico and Rubens might collaborate to produce this picture.
  31. The Happy Mistress.  Fifteen mistresses apply for three cooks and the mistress who thought herself nobody is chosen by the beautiful and accomplished cook.
  32. The Complete Drunkard.  He would not give money to sober people, he said they would only eat it and send their children to school with it.
  33. The Contented Porpoise.  It knew it was to be stuffed and set up in a glass case after death, and looked forward to this as to a life of endless happiness.
  34. The Flying Balance.  The ghost of an old cashier haunts a ledger, so that the books always refuse to balance by the sum of, say, £1.15.11.  No matter how many accountants are called in, year after year the same error always turns up; sometimes they think they have it right and it turns out there was a mistake, so the old error reappears.  At last a son and heir is born, and at some festivities the old cashier’s name is mentioned with honour.  This lays his ghost.  Next morning the books are found correct and remain so.
  35. A Dialogue between Isaac and Ishmael on the night that Isaac came down from the mountain with his father.  The rebellious Ishmael tries to stir up Isaac, and that good young man explains the righteousness of the transaction—without much effect.
  36. Bad Habits: on the dropping them gradually, as one leaves off requiring them, on the evolution principle.
  37. A Story about a Freethinking Father who has an illegitimate son which he considers the proper thing; he finds this son taking to immoral ways, e.g. he turns Christian, becomes a clergyman and insists on marrying.
  38. For a Ballad: Two sets of rooms in some alms-houses at Cobham near Gravesend have an inscription stating that they belong to “the Hundred of Hoo in the Isle of Grain.”  These words would make a lovely refrain for a ballad.
  39. A story about a man who suffered from atrophy of the purse, or atrophy of the opinions; but whatever the disease some plausible Latin, or imitation-Latin name must be found for it and also some cure.
  40. A Fairy Story modelled on the Ugly Duckling of Hans Andersen about a bumptious boy whom all the nice boys hated.  He finds out that he was really at last caressed by the Huxleys and Tyndalls as one of themselves.
  41. A Collection of the letters of people who have committed suicide; and also of people who only threaten to do so.  The first may be got abundantly from reports of coroners’ inquests, the second would be harder to come by.
  42. The Structure and Comparative Anatomy of Fads, Fancies and Theories; showing, moreover, that men and women exist only as the organs and tools of the ideas that dominate them; it is the fad that is alone living.
  43. An Astronomical Speculation: Each fixed star has a separate god whose body is his own particular solar system, and these gods know each other, move about among each other as we do, laugh at each other and criticise one another’s work.  Write some of their discourses with and about one another.

Continue reading ““Titles for Unwritten Articles, Essays, and Stories” — Samuel Butler”

Biblioklept’s Dictionary of Literary Terms

AUTEUR

French for author, this term denotes a film director who makes the same film again and again and again.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A detailed list of the books from which the author plundered all his or her good ideas.

CIRCUMLOCUTION

The rhetorical device of circumlocution can be seen by the reader or made evident to the reader when a writer chooses to compose phrases, clauses, or sentences that are inordinately complex, exaggerated, long-winded, or otherwise unnecessarily verbose in order to demonstrate, convey, show, or express an idea, image, or meaning that might have been demonstrated, conveyed, shown, or expressed via the use of shorter, simpler, more direct phrases, clauses, or sentences that demonstrate brevity.

Inexperienced writers, especially composition students, are advised to use circumlocution to pad their writing and meet the assigned word count.

DESCRIPTIVIST

A grammarian who holds strong opinions and judgments about prescriptivists.

EXPOSITION

Telling without showing. Exposition can be extremely useful to the reader, who will slight the author who successfully employs it.

FREE INDIRECT STYLE

James Wood Approved!™

GOLDEN AGE

A comforting, nebulous fantasy.

HAGIOGRAPHY

A biography composed entirely of distortions, half-truths, and outright lies.

INNUENDO

The funny dirty bits that make you feel clever.

JARGON

Trade-specific diction employed (preferably clumsily) to confuse the average reader and offend the expert reader.

KINDLE

Early 21st-century reading device, often mistaken as a harbinger of literary doom.

LITERALLY

An adverb that most often means figuratively.

MYTH

The most enduring—and therefore most true—kind of story.

NEGATIVE CAPABILITY

A writer’s ability to just chill and not know. (Also useful for lazy frauds).

OBJECTIVE POINT OF VIEW

A comforting, nebulous fantasy.

PRESCRIPTIVIST

A grammarian who holds strong opinions and judgments about descriptivists.

QUEST

The story-teller’s scheme. Make it up as you go along. Steal as necessary.

REALISM

A comforting, nebulous fantasy.

SEBALDIAN

An adjective used to describe a literary work that is not quite as good as anything by W.G. Sebald.

TRAGEDY

A work often mistaken as more serious or more important or more literary than a comedy.

UNIVERSAL SYMBOL

A comforting, nebulous fantasy.

VULGARITY

A specific type of lucidity that authors sometimes use.

WELTSCHMERZ

The emotional byproduct of attempting to maintain comforting, nebulous fantasies.

XANAX

A stop-gap for bouts of Weltschmerz.

YOKNAPATAWPHA COUNTY

Faulkner’s Middle-earth.

ZYZZYVA

Zyzzyva is a real word, and this fact should give us all some small measure of hope..

(Previous entries here and here and here.).

A New Yorker Short Fiction Reading List

 

Mutant Eustace Tilley (The New Yorker's Mascot) by Charles Burns
Mutant Eustace Tilley (The New Yorker’s Mascot) by Charles Burns

As you, savvy reader, are undoubtedly already aware, The New Yorker has opened up some of its archive for the rest of the summer (to show off its website redesign, I guess).

Here’s a reading list of short fiction from the archives (admittedly, some of the stuff I wanted to put on here is still behind a paywall).

Some of the stories on the list are classics, some are pieces I’ve shared on this blog before, some are excerpts from longer works, and a few are stories I have yet to read myself.

“The Daughters of the Moon” by Italo Calvino

“Backbone” by David Foster Wallace

“1966” by Denis Johnson

“My Father Addresses Me on the Facts of Old Age” by Grace Paley

“The Insufferable Gaucho” by Roberto Bolaño

“Victory Lap” by George Saunders

“Leopard” by Wells Tower

“Gorse Is Not People” by Janet Frame

“Rough Deeds” by Annie Proulx

“Supernatural Axioms” — William T. Vollmann

20140629-115848-43128982.jpg

From William T. Vollmann’s forthcoming collection, Last Stories and Other Stories.

List with No Name #46

  1. Flann O’Brien
  2. Mark Twain
  3. Daniel Defoe
  4. Iceberg Slim
  5. Edith Van Dyne
  6. Acton Bell
  7. Victoria Lucas
  8. Æ
  9. H.D.
  10. S.E. Hinton
  11. George Eliot
  12. George Sand
  13. George Orwell
  14. Toni Morrison
  15. Anne Rice
  16. Ford Madox Ford
  17. Robert Galbraith
  18. Paul Celan
  19. Boz
  20. Saki
  21. Stendahl
  22. Novalis
  23. Voltaire
  24. Lewis Carroll
  25. Franklin W. Dixon
  26. Lemony Snickett
  27. O. Henry
  28. Richard Bachman
  29. John le Carré
  30. Italo Svevo

Donald Barthelme’s Book Recommendations

barthelme_1a barthelme_2a barthelme_3a

Sure–okay, sure, you’ve seen this before (or maybe not), I know I have (I’ve even posted it before). But today is D. Barthelme’s birthday (he’s dead of course), and I’ve read or reread (or, more accurately read) most of his stuff (sans The King, which I’ve been saving) over the past year. Anyway, this here list comes via Kevin Moffett who got it off DB’s former student, Padgett Powell, when he (that is Moffett) was finishing up at my alma mater, the University of Gators (where Powell continues to teach today, having replaced Harry Crews, RIP). Anyway (again with that transition!), check out Moffett’s original share-piece at The Believer; he describes Gainesville’s Friends of the Library Sale, which was always fun. I got a copy of John Barth’s Chimera there (on the list, natch), among other books, but I didn’t get any Barthelme. I’ve read 31 of the 81 books on the list (this includes fantastically awarding myself the “Samuel Beckett entire” entry but hell man I think it’s been counted as one work here (at least by Moffett?), which maybe it should be but no I haven’t read all of Beckett but hell I’ve read a lot, if not enough, but anyway (again!)–31).

List with No Name #44

  1. In Kyoto, in the hot summer rain, sweating in a poncho, fighting with my girlfriend in front of a golden temple.
  2. At 17, experiencing the most intense jealousy of my life, watching a classmate weep in front of The Pietà, thinking, feeling, Why can’t I feel that?
  3. On the way to work, sleepy, maybe a bit hungover, breaking down in tears at “Space Oddity,” concern for Major Tom, his family. Swearing off music in the early morning. News radio ever since.
  4. Religion is just a set of aesthetic possibilities, conditions, and experiences.
  5. In Cork, drinking beer on a roof in the summer sun, a wasp landed on my very eye.
  6. In the last year of college, writing and recording dozens of songs with friends, editing the songs into a cohesive thing, calling the thing an album, sharing it with friends, with never even once the intention of doing anything else with that music, with no dreams of anyone else hearing it, live or recorded. An album made entirely for ourselves.
  7. Listening to it a dozen years later, conceding that it was actually maybe very good.
  8. Vomiting in foreign cities.
  9. Wary of my own susceptibility to sentimentalism, to sentimentality, to my awful tendency to experience catharsis through a fast food commercial on television.
  10. Never able to feel transcendent peace in nature, despite Emerson, Thoreau, Dickinson, Whitman, etc.—because just at the moment that the affect of transcendent peace manifests (the verb is inadequate), my awareness of the affect and the process of the affect and my feeling of the feeling of the affect spoils it all.
  11. Crashing into a road sign on an off ramp, walking away from the wreck, lying down on the slanted concrete abutment in the shade of a roaring overpass, feeling the best feeling, unspoiled.
  12. My child born—that nothing was more original, real, terrifying, beautiful.
  13. In dreams, sometimes: A whole other life, full, brimming, rich, real. He who wakes me wounds me, I think Nietzsche wrote. Or was it Bernhard? Or am I imagining the phrase?
  14. Never not jealous of a hawk in flight.
  15. My mother falling asleep, I kept reading until I too fell asleep.
  16. Vomiting into the trashcan in my classroom.
  17. My brother, balling up wrapping paper, hurling at me. My explosive rage.
  18. The snakes, the rats, the roaches I’ve killed.
  19. Workshopping a story in class. How I hated everyone.
  20. Friends jumping on my bed the afternoon of my wedding. (How did they get in?). Vomiting in the bed.
  21. Reading a certain novel, its plot, its construction essentially destroying a hundred or more of my own pages, my own outline, my own idea.
  22. A Modigliani in the New Orleans Museum of Art: Her neck was everything I remembered of the visit.
  23. My electric guitar, literally rusty from salt air and disuse.
  24. Irony as an aesthetic experience—or a defense against aesthetic experience?
  25. Painting the same scene in watercolors, dozens of times, with my daughter—the loquat tree, the grass, the sky. Her paintings surpassed mine so quickly.
  26. The rat that scuttled over my feet by the river in Chiang Mai. My horror and laughter.
  27. Removing dead rats from a shed as an aesthetic experience.
  28. All experiences are aesthetic experiences.
  29. Does maturity necessitate that we turn down the volume on these aesthetic experiences? That we manage the affect? That we blunt the feeling of the feeling?
  30. Seeing The Pietà again at 27 and moved by the memory of the classmate’s aesthetic response a decade earlier.
  31. The tourists crowding out Mona Lisa, I shuffled into some other room full of heavy, dark, black paintings—Caravaggios?—the names didn’t matter, the authority didn’t matter, I was 15 I think, I relaxed, I could look, I was alone, or I felt alone, it was lovely.
  32. My office: Prints by Goya, Picasso, Tintoretto, Leonardo. A painting by my grandmother, a dog resting, a bird and a bone nearby. Students come by to look at the giant Bosch reproduction, which I wish were more giant, more real.
  33. At the Dali Museum. Shock at how small some of the paintings were.
  34. Is there an aesthetic experience outside of sharing?
  35. Endlessly copying figures from comic books.
  36. Photographing food and sharing it on social media as a kind of thanksgiving prayer.
  37. Seeing the Bacon collection at MoMA, feeling a feeling that I still don’t have a name for.
  38. Rising early on Saturday mornings to watch a show where a man (or was it a woman?) guided me (and others, I suppose) through the rudiments of sketching animals. My grandmother made me sausages.
  39. My daughter’s thorough indifference to a Dürer etching in our local museum I wanted her to see. Her pleading to go to the gardens to paint with watercolors, to paint the fountain, the flowers.
  40. Sometimes in my dreams I write something, or paint something, or create wonderful, strange music.
  41. At eleven years old, sitting for a friend’s mother, who painted my portrait in watercolor. She didn’t draft in pencil, she worked so quickly. I was jealous and grateful.
  42. One of the reasons I love the internet so much is that it allows me to look at paintings. But looking at a painting on a screen is not the same as looking at paintings in the real.
  43. As a teenager, attempting wax dripping paintings in the style of Pollock, starting small fires in my bedroom, covering the scorched carpet with books, clothes, my parents sometimes not discovering the marks for weeks. Trying to explain them, but unwilling to share the paintings.
  44. A wish for anything that disrupts the feeling of feeling the feeling.

Amusements — George Catlin