If We Live Inside A Bad Joke,

In The City One Clings To Nostalgic And Unreal Signs Of Community, Takes Forced Refuge In Codes, Badges And Coteries; The City's Life, Of Surfaces And Locomotion, Usually Seems Too Dangerous And Demanding To Live Through With Any Confidence.

Critics? Don't Talk To Me Of Critics! You Think Some Jackanapes Journalist, His Soul Eaten Away By The Maggots Of Jealousy And Failure, Has Anything Worthwhile To Say Of Art? I Don't.

When I Want An Opinion, I'll Get It From My Peers - From Men Of Vision, Like Our Great Railroad Builders... Stanford, Huntington, Dinsmore... Fellows With Imaginations Broad Enough To Span The Continent.

My New City [seattle] And Its Hinterland Felt Deceptively Homely. Their Similar Latitude Gave Them The Angular Light And Lingering Evenings I Was Used To. Their Damp Marine Weather, Blowing In From The Southwest, Came In The Right Direction. When The Mountains Are Hidden Under A Low Sky, One Might Almost Imagine Oneself To Be In Britain.

I Ain't Sleeping. I'm Just Taking A Good Look At The Insides Of My Eyelids.