Art is lunging forward without certainty about where you are going or how to get there, being open to and dependent on what luck, the paint, the typo, the dissonance, give you. Without art you’re stuck with yourself as you are and life as you think life is.
I didn’t like the ’60s because it was too important what people who had nothing to do with the war thought about it.
I take care of military families. Their sacrifices are very real.
I’m not an expert on the Middle East or terrorism or the use of military force or politics. It’s all I can do to know a little bit about how to help people raise their kids and what to do when they get sick. When a war happens, I just hope it gets over with quickly so that how we take care of children becomes more important again.
Life for the unwell is discontinuous and unpredictable. Things just come out of nowhere. People try but mostly do a lousy job of taking care of you.
My mother, who was radiant, young, and beautiful even as she lay dying, heard voices and saw visions, but she always managed to make friends with them and was much too charming to hospitalize even at her craziest.
Once you’ve been talked to by voices, it’s not possible to go back to a world where talking voices is not possible.
There was a point when I was 15 or 16 that I realized that my father wanted me to be a loner. I decided, ‘It’s okay to be an introvert, but I don’t want to be a loner. I want a few other people in my life.’