Art, in a sense, is life brought to a standstill, rescued from time. The secret of making it is simple: discard everything that is good enough.
Art, in a sense, is life brought to a standstill, rescued from time. The secret of making it is simple: discard everything that is good enough.
Where there is a true art and genuine virtuosity the artist can paint an incomparable masterpiece without leaving even a trace of his identity.
It doesn t matter how you get knocked down in life It just matters that you get up After winning the Oscar for Best Director for his film Argo
Fall makes me think that if I fail horribly at this art thing, and then fail horribly with this writing thing, I'll go run a pumpkin patch.
We are not creators; only combiners of the created. Invention isn't about new ingredients, but new recipes. And innovations taste the best.
Art is what gets us beyond what is real. It makes reality more real. It also shortens the distance we gotta travel to see how connected we are.
There is something particularly fascinating about seeing places you know in a piece of art - be that in a film, or a photograph, or a painting.
Some things and concepts aren't readily available for others to see. Like we have our older generations that may not be hip on newer means.
...as we rise from the organic and sink back ignominiously into the organic, it is a glory and a privilege to love what Death doesn't touch.
The rules on what is possible and impossible in the arts were made by people who had not tested the bounds of the possible by going beyond them.
Picasso." He whispers like a priest. "Picasso. Who saw the truth. Who painted the truth, moulded it, ripped from the earth with two angry hands.
I can draw like it’s nobody’s business. I use my door as a canvas, so don’t knock, because it’s nobody’s business.
How should an artist begin to do his work as an artist? I would insist that he begin his work as an artist by setting out to make a work of art.
Creation pulls something from an abyss of nothing. Startups take the something and give it to those in the dark, at first, perhaps, for nothing.
The more I indulge in art, the more I become lost for words, because each stroke is my confession and each shade is my emotion. I live for this.