Quotes About Creativity

Und auch in der synthetisierenden Geruchsküche seiner Phantasie, in der er ständig neue Duftkombinationen zusammenstellte, herrschte noch kein ästhetisches Prinzip. Es waren Bizarrerien, die er schuf und alsbald wieder zerstörte wie ein Kind, das mit Bauklötzen spielt, erfindungsreich und destruktiv, ohne erkennbares schöpferisches Prinzip." ? Patrick Süskind, Das Parfum

Der Kontrabaß ist das scheußlichste, plumpeste, uneleganteste Instrument, das je erfunden wurde. Ein Waldschrat von Instrument.

O instrumento tem dentro de si um mundo, teórico e físico. Só que demonstrá-lo, ninguém o faz, do ponte de vista prático-musical. O mesmo se passa com os instrumentos de sopro. E com todas as pessoas... agora em sentido figurado. Conheço pessoas que possuem dentro de si todo um universo, incomensurável. Mas fazer com que ele saia cá para fora, isso ninguém o faz. Seria o fim. Mas adiante...

If you live through the initial stage of fame and get past it, and remember thats not who you are. If you live past that, then you have a hope of maybe learning how to spell the word artist.

We sang not for fame and fortune, but because the song needed to be set free from our souls. Once liberated, most folks understood why it had been locked up in the first place. Once

We also usually got the best results, probably because not only do we think outside the box, we trample it, change its shape, hide it from all its loved ones, and then hold it for ransom.

Thanks. Any idea how to ride a flying horse?" Argus said. "Not really, but I'd imagine it would be along the lines of get in the saddle and don't fall off," Murphy said.

I think space will be conquered through the mind rather than the clumsy medium of space travel.

Probably induced by the asthma, I started reading and writing early on, my literary efforts from the age of about nine running chiefly to poetry and plays.

Inspiration descends only in flashes, to clothe circumstances; it is not stored up in a barrel, like salt herrings, to be doled out.

I recorded a song called, I Fall to Pieces, and I was in a car wreck. Now I'm worried because I have a brand-new record, and it's called Crazy!

When I was younger, I felt it was my duty to wake people up. I thought poetry was asleep. I thought rock 'n' roll was asleep.

I came into music because I thought the presentation of poetry wasn't vibrant enough. So I merged improvised poetry with basic rock chords.

No, my work does not reflect my sexual preferences, it reflects the fact that I feel total freedom as an artist.

I imagined myself as Frida to Diego, both muse and maker. I dreamed of meeting an artist to love and support and work with side by side.

Freedom is...the right to write the wrong words.

I believe that we, that this planet, hasn't seen its Golden Age. Everybody says its finished ... art's finished, rock and roll is dead, God is dead. Fuck that! This is my chance in the world. I didn't live back there in Mesopotamia, I wasn't there in the Garden of Eden, I wasn't there with Emperor Han, I'm right here right now and I want now to be the Golden Age ...if only each generation would realise that the time for greatness is right now when they're alive ... the time to flower is now.

I refuse to believe that Hendrix had the last possessed hand, that Joplin had the last drunken throat, that Morrison had the last enlightened mind.

Why can't I write something that would awake the dead? That pursuit is what burns most deeply.

I had no proof that I had the stuff to be an artist, though I hungered to be one.

When we got to the part where we had to improvise an argument in a poetic language, I got cold feet. "I can't do this," I said. "I don't know what to say." "Say anything," he said. "You can't make a mistake when you improvise." "What if I mess it up? What if I screw up the rhythm?" "You can't," he said. "It's like drumming. If you miss a beat, you create another." In this simple exchange, Sam taught me the secret of improvisation, one that I have accessed my whole life.

We wanted, it seemed, what we already had, a lover and a friend to create with, side by side. To be loyal, yet be free.

Patti, did art get us?' I looked away, not really wanting to think about it. 'I don't know, Robert. I don't know.' Perhaps it did, but no one could regret that. Only a fool would regret being had by art; or a saint.

Everything comes down so pasteurized everything comes down 16 degrees they say your amplifier is too loud turn your amplifier down are we high all alone on our knees memory is just hips that swing like a clock the past projects fantastic scenes tic/toc tic/toc tic/toc fuck the clock!