“There is so much promise. Buttons to push to make words and pictures and films and stories, then the tubes to push them through to capture audiences with meaningful experiences. There is so much opportunity for connection. And so it goes. The work billows out. Most of it is waste, chew-toys for the ruminent mind. But finding connection in creative work is mining for diamonds, not harpooning fish in a kiddie-pool. And developing those capable hands and voices takes time and practice. (And produces a lot of work that is just rubbish.)”— Frank Chimero
“Anyone who has ever been privileged to direct a film also knows that, although it can be like trying to write ‘War and Peace’ in a bumper car in an amusement park, when you finally get it right, there are not many joys in life that can equal the feeling.”—Stanley Kubrick
“And, of course, that is what all of this is - all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs - that song, endlesly reincarnated - born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket ‘88’, that Buick 6 - same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness.”—Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather #
“Some of the best thinkers throughout history had some of their best thoughts while going for walks, playing cards with friends, little things things that generally would not be considered the hallmarks of busy people. It’s the ability to pause, to reflect, and relax, to let the mind wander, that’s perhaps the true sign of time mastery, for when the mind returns it’s often sharper and more efficient, but most important perhaps, happier than it was before.”— http://bobulate.com/post/477084922
Interviewer: Do you think everyone is born with an equal appetite for life? Captain Beefheart: I don’t know. That’s a really good question. I can only speak for myself, but I’ve fought not to let it get pounded out of me. A lot of people allow themselves to become dull because they fear pain, but pain is a form of awareness. A lot of people don’t want to be more aware though, and it seems that as time goes on, more and more people don’t want to know.
Japanese urban space is famously dense but at the same time astonishingly malleable. The architect Fumihiko Maki, in a book now reviewed on this site, observes that “compared with New York, Tokyo is a disorderly, relaxed city, whose architectural framework offers few constraints. That is precisely why the formation of territory in Tokyo is either very delicate and personal or extremely abstract in nature.” My pictures are concerned with both kinds of territory, but I am especially drawn to the spaces between planned projects. It is in these narrow confines that people and businesses perform the countless small-scale improvisations that give Japanese cities their character. These minor spaces are at once public and oddly intimate, and easily missed — the open secrets of urban Japan.
When we gawk at the illusion of stability dissolving, it’s a reaction to the wrong half of the equation. If things need to change, it means that what we do becomes incredibly more important.Do. Action suddenly becomes more valuable. It means that there is opportunity, if one can perceive everyone else’s blind spot and find some white space for themselves. If everyone is getting together and complaining, it means that there’s a lot of unoccupied space somewhere.
“In eras past, mainstream culture was blandly, blindly complacent, so underground music was angry and dissatisfied. But now, mainstream culture isn’t complacent, it’s stupid and angry; underground culture reacts by becoming smarter, more serene. That’s not wimpy—it’s powerful and productive.”—Michael Azerrad in Paste, February 2010 (via marco)
In music, timbre (pronounced /ˈtæmbər/) is the quality of a musical note or sound or tone that distinguishes different types of sound production, such as voices or musical instruments. The physical characteristics of sound that mediate the perception of timbre include spectrum and envelope. Timbre is also known in psychoacoustics as tone quality or tone color.
For example, timbre is what, with a little practice, people use to distinguish the saxophone from the trumpet in a jazz group, even if both instruments are playing notes at the same pitch and loudness. Timbre has been called a “wastebasket” attribute or category, or “the psychoacoustician’s multidimensional wastebasket category for everything that cannot be qualified as pitch or loudness”; i.e., the ‘shape’ of the sound.
"The most spectacular thing the movies ever had to offer (see Renoir, Ophüls, Ozu, Bresson… well, just keep seeing) is the human face as its mind alters or saddens."
"The many open wounds in our society and our ongoing history are the symptoms of the way our arrogant loneliness has beaten at family. If you go to the films of Ozu, this is what you will see, and what you will have to carry away in your mind."
“She uses the remote as demonstrated, drapes drawing quietly aside to reveal a remarkably virtual-looking skyline, a floating jumble of electric Lego, studded with odd shapes you wouldn’t see elsewhere, as if you’d need special Tokyo add-ons to build this at home.”—William Gibson on the view from a Tokyo hotel, from Pattern Recognition. (via)
In Japan, the late 18th-century poet Issa is celebrated for his delighted, almost child-like celebrations of the natural world. Issa saw four children die in infancy, his wife die in childbirth, and his own body partially paralyzed.
In the corporate world, I always knew there was some higher position I could attain, which meant that, like Zeno’s arrow, I was guaranteed never to arrive and always to remain dissatisfied.
“What makes Japanese design so special? According to Kenya Hara it’s a matter of simplicity; a particular notion of simplicity, different from what simplicity means in the West. So are things in general better designed in Japan? Well, actually, it’s not that simple…”—Kenya Hara On Japanese Aesthetics (Information Architects)