Jerry Garcia and David Crosby, 1971, by Henry Diltz.
What I hadn’t figured out yet was that it’s OK not to be a genius, whatever that is, if there even is such a thing. Since then I’ve learned that the creative life may or may not be the apex of human civilization, but either way it’s not what I thought it was. It doesn’t make you special and sparkly. You don’t have to walk alone. You can work in an office — I’ve worked in offices for the past 15 years and written five novels while doing it. The creative life is forgiving: You can betray it all you want, again and again, and no matter how many times you do, it will always take you back.
In 1949, Andy Warhol was a young artist grateful to have his work accepted by Harper’s Magazine. He wrote to editor Russell Lynes noting that his “life couldn’t fill a penny postcard” and that he was “moving from one roach infested apartment to another.” You’ve come a long way, Andy baby! Happy birthday.
Andy Warhol letter to Russell Lynes, 1949. Harper’s Magazine records kept by managing editor Russell Lynes, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.
Douglas D. Prince, Francesca Woodman
Lunch break detour. West Hartford Farmers Market (at West Hartford, Connecticut)
I’d like to be outside today. Stuck at work instead.
I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life..
Henry David Thoreau, Walden (via thatkindofwoman)