Thursday, July 2, 2009

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

You don't understand my plight.

"Miles Raymond: Well, the world doesn't give a shit what I have to say. I'm not necessary. Had. I'm so insignificant I can't even kill myself.
Jack: Miles, what the hell is that supposed to mean?
Miles Raymond: Come on, man. You know. Hemingway, Sexton, Plath, Woolf. You can't kill yourself before you're even published.
Jack: What about the guy who wrote Confederacy of Dunces? He killed himself before he was published. Look how famous he is.
Miles Raymond: Thanks.
Jack: Just don't give up, alright? You're gonna make it.
Miles Raymond: Half my life is over and I have nothing to show for it. Nothing. I'am thumbprint on the window of a skyscraper. I'm a smudge of excrement on a tissue surging out to sea with a million tons of raw sewage.
Jack: See? Right there. Just what you just said. That is beautiful. 'A smudge of excrement... surging out to sea.'
Miles Raymond: Yeah.
Jack: I could never write that.
Miles Raymond: Neither could I, actually. I think it's Bukowsky."
- Sideways.

Sideways is one of the best movies I have seen. Rarely do films come along with a really, strong and witty storyline. The above lines are my favourite from the film, I laughed so hard I snorted Pepsi out of my nose.

People discuss my art and pretend to understand as if it were necessary to understand, when it's simply necessary to love.

Edgar Degas.

Art, or, even life, if you think about it, isn't about necessarily understanding, it's about loving.