When Julia was twenty-nine, her hair was already bar-coded. Now, at sixty-two, it was a solid helmet of bright pewter, level with her lean, brown jawbone.
Craig RaineThe task of the artist at any time is uncompromisingly simple — to discover what has not yet been done, and to do it.
Craig RaineTag: inspirational writing artists writers-on-writing
Friendship is one friend betraying another friend to a third friend. With a fond friendly smile. The greater the betrayal, the greater the intimacy - the greater the friendship.
Craig RaineTag: frienship
The jery, impeded walk of a man stuck in a turnstile, admitted, and stuck in a turnstile, admitted, and stuck in a turnstile. He said it was rheumatoid arthritis. It looked as likely to be cancer of the prostrate metastatising to his hips.
Craig RaineIn the morning, when she walked to the consulate, carefully watching her sandals on the pavement, she glanced up and saw a Negro wearing a stack of panama hats. Maybe twelve. She never forgot the bandoeon of brims, the perfect stutter of hat.
Craig RaineTag: metaphor
Here she is at her kitchen table, fingering a jigsaw of thalidomide ginger, thinking about the arthritis in her hands.
Craig RaineIt was like being trapped forever in the present tense of the first line of a first reader.
Craig RaineIn his autobiography Stravinsky relates that the first music he remembers was made by a peasant, working his hand in his armpit to produce a rhytmic farting.
Craig RaineTag: music humour stravinsky
Her laugh. The way she smoked before she gave up. Smoke trickling up her nostrils. Spokes of smoke when she spoke.
Craig RaineI am awaiting the return of the nerves to the epidermis. They're being pretty damn slow about it.
Craig RainePagina 1 di 2.
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