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This Side of Paradise:
Amory, sorry for them, was still not sorry for himself-art, politics, religion, whatever his medium should be, he knew now, free from all the hysteria-he could accept what was acceptable, roam grow, rebel, sleep deep through many nights...
There was no God in his heart, he knew; his ideas were still in riot; there was ever the pain of memory; the regret for his lost youth-yet the waters of disillusion had left a deposit on his soul, responsibility and a love of life, the faint stirring of old ambitions and unrealized dreams. But-Rosalind! Rosalind!...
"It's all a poor substitute at best," he said sadly.
And he could not tell why the struggle was worth while, why he had determined to use the utmost himself and his heritage from the personalities he had passed...
He stretched out his arms to the crystalline, radiant sky. "I Know myself," he cried, "but that is all"
-F. Scott Fitzgerald
I spend a lot of time doing nothing but pondering, but occaisionally I do attempt to take the things gathered in those ponderings and create things out of them, for instance
Sometimes I make films, you can see them here .
Occasionally I'll write a poem I'm happy enough with to share, read the carefully selected few here .
I think my unconcious mind does the most interesting creating of which I am capable. if you'd like to poke around in there, you can read my dream journal here .
I take photographs sometimes and I'm working on collecting those worth sharing in an online album. Link to come.
Also, I've written quite a few songs of late and I very much hope to be able to share them soon.
