Quotes About Creativity

One forges one's style on the terrible anvil of daily deadlines.

Si vous me demandez ce que je viens faire en ce monde, moi artiste, je vous répondrai: je viens vivre tout haut.

What is art, after all, if not simply giving out what you have inside you? Didn't it all boil down to sticking a female in front of you and painting her as you feel she is?

Le había quedado, de los tiempos en los que soñaba con dedicarse a la literatura y se juntaba con poetas, una desesperación universal.

a boundless contempt for everything outside their art, for society, and above all, for politics. (64)

Est-ce qu'une femme a besoin de savoir jouer et chanter ? Ah ! mon petit, tu es trop bête... Nana a autre chose, parbleu ! et quelque chose qui remplace tout.

Quand je pense, dit Sandoz, que ces petits fignoleurs de l'École et du journalisme l'ont accusé de paresse et d'ignorance, en répétant les uns à la suite des autres qu'il avait toujours refusé d'apprendre son métier ! (...) Jamais ils ne comprendront que ce qu'on apporte, lorsqu'on a la gloire d'apporter quelque chose, déforme ce qu'on apprend.

The obligation of a writer is to live out loud.

en lo más hondo de aquel empecinamiento, clamaba la rebelión del modesto fabricante artesano contra la invasora vulgaridad de los artículos de bazar.

S'il en avait découvert le moyen, il aurait fait passer la rue au travers de sa maison.

What is art, after all, if not simply giving out what you have inside you? Didn't it all boil down to sticking a female in front of you and painting her as you feel she is? - page35

Cet audacieux dont on s'est moqué, a des procédés fort sages, et si ses oeuvres ont un aspect particulier, elles ne le doivent qu'à la façon toute personnelle dont il aperçoit et traduit les objets.

large, color-stained fingers (23)

he was carried aloft, for the moment, on one of those great waves of hope from which he was usually plunged deep into the agonies familiar to all artists with a devouring passion for nature. (25)

What was Art, after all, if not simply giving out what you have inside you? ... Wasn't a bunch of carrots, yes, a bunch of carrots, studied directly and painted simply, personally, as you see it yourself, as good as any of the run-of-the-mill, made-to-measure Ecole des Beaux-Arts stuff, painted with tobacco juice? The day was not far off when one solitary, original carrot might be pregnant with revolution! (35)

He caressed them, did them violence even, and shed tears of despair over his failures to make them either sufficiently beautiful or sufficiently alive. (42)

Todas las mujeres conciben ideas, pero no todas conciben hijos

She started writing notes and keeping them under her pillow, and then she started writing them on her pillowcase, hoping they would help her have better dreams. And if she couldn't sleep, she could just read them and be reminded of something so stunningly beautiful that her heart would swell and her bones would sigh and for just a second, the world would not seem like it was going to crush her.

The subjects had, indeed, risen vividly on my mind. As I saw them with the spiritual eye, before I attempted to embody them, they were striking; but my hand would not second my fancy, and in each case it had wrought out but a pale portrait of the thing I had conceived.

Now here is the babyish trash.

Sin embargo, es incapaz de aceptar a Emily como una artista adulta y consciente, dueña de su propia creación.

I think that one's art is a growth inside one. I do not think one can explain growth. It is silent and subtle. One does not keep digging up a plant to see how it grows.

Who of us knows just why we do what we do, much less another's whys, or what we're after? Art is not like that; cut and dried and hit-at like a bull's eye and done for a reason and explained away by this or that motive. It's climbing and striving for something always beyond.

More than ever was I convinced that the old way of seeing was inadequate to express this big country of ours, her depth, her height, her unbounded wildness, silences too strong to be broken - nor could ten million cameras, through their mechanical boxes, ever show real Canada. It had to be sensed, passed through live minds, sensed and loved.