It Occurred To Me That Everyone’s Story

I Made Orange Juice From Concentrate And Showed Her The Trick Of Squeezing The Juice Of One Real Orange Into It. It Removes The Taste Of Being Frozen. She Marveled At This, And I Laughed And Said, Life Is Easy. What I Meant Was, Life Is Easy With You Here, And When You Leave, It Will Be Hard Again.

That's The Artist's Job, Really: Continually Setting Yourself Free, And Giving Yourself New Options And New Ways Of Thinking About Things.

I Actually Don't Have A Great Surplus Of Ideas. Some Evolve Very Slowly, Over Many Years, But I Sort Of Trust That All Of The Interesting Ones Will Become Something That I Eventually End Up Doing.

I Don't Think I'm More Of A Screenwriter Than I Am A Fiction Writer. I'm More Of A Reader Than A Film-watcher, So I Imagine That I'm Not Approaching Fiction Or Films In A Particularly Cinematic Way.

It Was A Small Thing, But It Was A Thing, And Things Have A Way Of Either Dying Or Growing, And It Wasn’t Dying.