Anton Chekhov once wrote that any idiot can face a crisis – it’s day to day life that wears you out. And he was right. I believe that most of us are strong enough to conquer the reality we live in, but so few of us are actually in control. It’s the ups and downs that make life interesting, to say the least. The struggles, the fights, the losses. Continue reading
Maybe we live in a dangerous world. Maybe this world has always been “unsafe” for those who weren’t sure what to do.
And I’d like to tell you there’s nothing to be afraid of, I’d like to tell you that failures build a man, that every fall is also a step forward. That what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…
But the truth is that, most times, what doesn’t kill you makes you wish it did. Continue reading
“In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.
In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.
In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.
I realized, through it all, that…
In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.”
– Albert Camus
The only way you’re ever going to accomplish something worth mentioning is to rely on your inner strength. True motivation comes from inside. Why some people never give up, no matter what, and why some people never finish a job they’ve started… that’s all about how much they believe in themselves.
The truth is, I can tell you all about my struggles, my problems, and how I chose to face them, how I decided to keep on writing, even when I couldn’t see any reason to keep on doing so. Even when failure was always around the corner. I can write about it, tell you about it, I can tell you that you can do great things only if you set your mind to it, that greatness is achievable, and so on… but the truth is that at the end of the day, if you don’t believe in yourself, nothing will change. Continue reading
“Worry destroys the ability to write.” — Ernest Hemingway
Maybe you’re familiar with Franz Kafka’s short story, A Hunger Artist, maybe you’re not. It doesn’t really matter. One of the main themes of the story (the way I see it) is the fact that artists most often feel misunderstood by their audience. And they’re furious because of that.
That’s a myth.
Most often than not it’s the artist’s inability to show people what he wants to show them that gets in the way. Continue reading
I spent most of today sleeping. Not because I was tired, but mostly because I felt like doing nothing. When I finally decided to get out of bed and write some stuff, the power went out. Ironic, isn’t it? I had spent most of my day telling myself that tomorrow I’ll have plenty of time to write, and when I couldn’t, I panicked.
There are few simple truths in life, and one of them is the fact that we rarely appreciate what we have until we lose it. Until it can no longer be. We tend to take things for granted, and when those things are taken from us, that’s when we realize how important they were.
We’ve always despised the ghost of what can no longer be. Continue reading
When I first started this blog back in April 2012 I had absolutely no plan whatsoever. I had tried blogging for a few weeks back in January 2011, but it didn’t work out because I couldn’t find any readers.
The thing is, the Internet is pretty much a bizarre world. Yes, you’ve got millions and millions of people, so the potential is there, but at the same time you can’t stop asking yourself how on Earth are all these people going to find you among so many others who are doing kind of the same thing?
So, instead of focusing your time and energy on what you’re doing, you keep trying to find something unique and brilliant, something no one else has ever thought of doing before. Continue reading
“Four years before I had written Soldiers’ Pay. It didn’t take long to write and it got published quickly and made me about five hundred dollars. I said, Writing novels is easy. You don’t make much doing it, but it is easy. I wrote Mosquitoes. It wasn’t quite so easy to write and it didn’t get published quite as quickly and it made me about four hundred dollars. I said, Apparently there is more to writing novels, being a novelist, than I thought. I wrote Sartoris. It took much longer, and the publisher refused it at once. But I continued to shop it about for three years with a stubborn and fading hope, perhaps to justify the time which I had spent writing it. This hope died slowly, though it didn’t hurt at all. One day I seemed to shut a door between me and all publishers’ addresses and book lists. I said to myself, Now I can write. Now I can make myself a vase like that which the old Roman kept at his bedside and wore the rim slowly away with kissing it. So I, who had never had a sister and was fated to lose my daughter in infancy, set out to make myself a beautiful and tragic little girl.” – William Faulkner, An Introduction to The Sound and The Fury
I’m sure you’ve heard of the term “art for art’s sake.” I’ve always considered it to be one of the most crucial stages any artist must go through.
It’s easier said than done, mostly because we feel life’s a competition. We play to win, and the pleasure of simply playing the game is not enough. Continue reading