A Sentence Has Meaning In The Sense

It’s A Very New, Not To Mention Vulgar, Idea That The Spectator’s Experience Should Be Identical To, Or Even Have Anything To Do With, The Artist’s.

Since I Spent Eighteen Years Of My Life As A Child, And Nine Years Of That Life As A Pretty Sexually Active Gay Child, My Complaint Against The Current Attitudes Is That They Work Mightily To Silence The Voices Of Children First And Secondarily Ignore What Adults Have To Say Who Have Been Through These Situations. One Size Fits All Is Never The Way To Handle Any Situation With A Human Dimension. Many, Many Children-and I Was One Of Them-are Desperate To Establish Some Sort Of Sexual Relation With An Older And Even Adult Figure.

It Is A Magic Book. Words Mean Things. When You Put Them Together They Speak. Yes, Sometimes They Flatten Out And Nothing They Say Is Real, And That Is One Kind Of Magic. But Sometimes A Vision Will Rip Up From Them And Shriek And Clank Wings Clear As The Sweat Smudge On The Paper Under Your Thumb. And That Is Another Kind.

Ambition Like A Liquid Ruby Stains.

I Still Believe Pattern Fascinates On Its Own. And Three-sevenths Of A Pattern, Or Even A Smaller Fragment, Can Fascinate Still More--get Us Really Hunkering Down, Trying To Tease Out The Whole Of The Figure In The Carpet.