Saturday, February 26, 2011

Intense dissatisfaction with my own work is a constant. I try to psyche myself into a sense of optimism but can never maintain the façade for long. I don’t have the supreme confidence of the Master to project. I’m more of an assemblage emerging dans la merde than an outline coming out of clarity -- more of a morel than a moral.

2 comments:

  1. Don't you think though Tom that none of us are really in a clear position to make a judgment regarding what we do. Thus putting us in the continual act of "making" or even better "doing" (the same verb in mosr Romance languages). This doesn't mean we don't judge during process, just that judgment after the process is not really our concern. I never understood this in F.R. Leavis, the poet's constant need to determine the value of what is produced, this value is too fleeting and multifarious,

    Perhaps two types of judgment or evaluation then: the judgment of the maker (in the process) and the judgment of the judge (after...)

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  2. ... performance anxiety springs eternal ...

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