I am working on something new and because I’m a superstitious pessimist, I don’t like to call new things books until they are bound and in my hands, until then they’re manuscripts, bad ideas, dark alleys I’m half inclined to run from; in Autoportrait Edouard Leve talks about books being either spacious mansions with room to roam or small dark rooms and I have known and written both, it is too soon to know which this next thing will be; so far it’s been arduous and odd and required me to think harder than I usually do and I want it to be like this otherwise what’s the point, I want that sense of asking
Bodies, art and usefulness
Bodies, art and usefulness
Bodies, art and usefulness
I am working on something new and because I’m a superstitious pessimist, I don’t like to call new things books until they are bound and in my hands, until then they’re manuscripts, bad ideas, dark alleys I’m half inclined to run from; in Autoportrait Edouard Leve talks about books being either spacious mansions with room to roam or small dark rooms and I have known and written both, it is too soon to know which this next thing will be; so far it’s been arduous and odd and required me to think harder than I usually do and I want it to be like this otherwise what’s the point, I want that sense of asking