Duk0 îáðàòèòüñÿ ïî èìåíè
Ñðåäà, 01 Íîÿáðÿ 2006 ã. 19:09 (ññûëêà)
Âîò, çàôëóæèâàþ òâîé äíåâ öèòàòàìè)))
"Êî âðåìåíè, êîãäà òû ïðî÷ò¸øü ýòî, òû áóäåøü ñòàðøå, ÷åì ñåáÿ ïîìíèøü."
"By the time you read this, you’ll be older than you remember."
"Èìååòñÿ áåñêîíå÷íî ìíîãî ñïîñîáîâ ñàìîóáèéñòâà, íå âëåêóùåãî íåìåäëåííîé ñìåðòè."
"You have endless ways you can commit suicide without dying dying."
"Ìû âñå õîòèì îñòàâèòü ñâîþ ïîäïèñü. Ñâî¸ âå÷íîå âëèÿíèå. Ñâîþ æèçíü ïîñëå ñìåðòè. Ìû âñå õîòèì ñîîáùèòü ñâîþ ñóòü. Íèêòî íå õî÷åò áûòü çàáûòûì."
"We all want to leave our signature. Our lasting effect. Your life after death. We all want to explain ourselves. Nobody wants to be forgotten."
"Èç âñåõ çàáûòûõ áåñöåííûõ ïðåäìåòîâ âîò ÷òî ìû ñïàñàåì. Àðòåôàêòû. Ðåïëèêè ïàìÿòè. Íèê÷¸ìíûå ñóâåíèðû. Òî, ÷òî íå ïðîäàòü ñ àóêöèîíà. Øðàìû, îñòàâëåííûå ñ÷àñòüåì."
"Of all the priceless objects left behind, this is what we rescue. These artifacts. Memory cues. Useless souvenirs. Nothing you could auction. The scars left from happiness."
"Íóæíî ñòðàäàòü, ÷òîáû ñîçäàòü íàñòîÿùåå èñêóññòâî."
"You’ll need to suffer to make any real art."
"Õîòü êòî-íèáóäü çíàåò íà ñàìîì äåëå, ïî÷åìó åìó ÷òî-òî íðàâèòñÿ? Ïî÷åìó ëþäè äåëàþò òî, ÷òî äåëàþò?"
"Does anybody really know why they like anything? Why people do anything?"
"Ìîæåò áûòü, ëþäè äîëæíû ïåðåæèòü òðàãåäèþ, ÷òîáû íà÷àòü äåëàòü òî, ÷òî ëþáÿò."
"Maybe people have to really suffer before they can risk doing what they love."
"Âäîõíîâåíèþ íóæíû áîëåçíü, óâå÷üå, áåçóìèå."
"Inspiration needs disease, injury, madness."
"Òî, ÷òî òåáå íåïîíÿòíî, òû ìîæåøü ïîíèìàòü êàê óãîäíî."
"What you don’t understand, you can make mean anything."
"Èç ïîäòâåðæäåíèÿ äàâíûì-äàâíî èçâåñòíîé èñòèíû âñåãäà ìîæíî èçâëå÷ü ñâåæóþ áîëü."
"You can find fresh pain every time you discover what you pretty much already know."
"Êòî çíàåò, îòêóäà áåðóòñÿ èäåè. Íàøå âäîõíîâåíèå. Ïî÷åìó ìû ïðèäóìûâàåì òî, ÷òî ïðèäóìûâàåì."
"Who knows where an idea comes from. Our inspiration. Why do we imagine what we imagine."
"Ïîðîé äëÿ õóäîæíèêà õðîíè÷åñêèå áîëè - áëàãîñëîâåíèå."
"Sometimes, for an artist, chronic pain can be a gift."
"Óãîë, ïîä êîòîðûì òû ñìîòðèøü, îñâåùåíèå, êîìïîçèöèÿ, òåõíèêà, - ýòî âñ¸ òû. Äàæå ïðè÷èíà, ïî êîòîðîé òû âûáèðàåøü ñþæåò, - ýòî òû. Òû - êàæäûé êîëåð è ìàçîê êèñòè. Âñ¸, ÷òî ìîæåò õóäîæíèê, - ýòî îïèñûâàòü ñâî¸ ëèöî. Êàæäûé ïðèãîâîð¸í ê òîìó, ÷òîáû îñòàâàòüñÿ ñîáîé. À ïîñåìó ìû ñâîáîäíû è ìîæåì ðèñîâàòü ÷òî óãîäíî, ðàç ìû ðèñóåì òîëüêî ñàìèõ ñåáÿ."
"The angle you use, the lighting, the composition, the technique, they’re all you. Even the reason why you chose this scene, it’s you. You are every color and brushstroke. The only thing an artist can do is describe his own face. You’re doomed to being you. This leaves us free to draw anything, since we’re only drawing ourselves."
"Çàäà÷à õóäîæíèêà - ñîçäàâàòü ïîðÿäîê èç õàîñà. Òû êîïèøü ïîäðîáíîñòè, èùåøü çàêîíîìåðíîñòè è ïðèâîäèøü â ñèñòåìó. Èçâëåêàåøü ñìûñë èç áåññìûñëåííûõ ôàêòîâ. Ñîáèðàåøü âñ¸ èç êóñî÷êîâ, êàê ãîëîâîëîìêó. Òàñóåøü è ïåðåñòðàèâàåøü. Êîëëàæ. Ìîíòàæ. Ñáîðêà."
"An artist’s job is to make order out of chaos. You collect details, look for a pattern, and organize. You make sense out of senseless facts. You puzzle together bits of everything. You shuffle and reorganize. Collage. Montage. Assemble."
"Âñ¸ âàæíî. Êàæäàÿ äåòàëü. Ìû ïðîñòî-íàïðîñòî åù¸ íå çíàåì ïî÷åìó. Âñ¸ - àâòîïîðòðåò. Äíåâíèê. Âñÿ èñòîðèÿ òâîèõ îòíîøåíèé ñ íàðêîòèêàìè - â îäíîì-åäèíñòâåííîì òâî¸ì âîëîñêå. Òâîè íîãòè. Îòïå÷àòêè ïàëüöåâ â ñóäåáíîì äîñüå. Ðåëüåô òâîåãî æèâîòà - äîêóìåíò. Ìîçîëè íà òâîåé ëàäîíè ðàçãëàøàþò òâîè òàéíû. Çóáû âûäàþò òåáÿ. È òâîé àêöåíò. Ìîðùèíû, îêðóæàþùèå òâîè ãëàçà è ãóáû. Âî âñ¸ì, ÷òî òû äåëàåøü, âèäíà òâîÿ ðóêà."
"Everything is important. Every detail. We just don’t know why yet. Everything is a self-portrait. A diary. Your whole drug history’s in a strand of your hair. Your fingernails. The forensic details. The lining of your stomach is a document. The calluses on your hand tell all your secrets. Your teeth give you away. Your accent. The wrinkles around your mouth and eyes. Everything you do shows your hand."
"Çàäà÷à õóäîæíèêà - áûòü âíèìàòåëüíûì, êîïèòü, îðãàíèçîâûâàòü, õðàíèòü, êàòàëîãèçèðîâàòü è, íàêîíåö, ïèñàòü îò÷¸ò. Äîêóìåíòèðîâàòü. Ãîòîâèòü ê ïîêàçó. Çàäà÷à õóäîæíèêà - ïðîñòî íå çàáûâàòü."
"An artist’s job is to pay attention, collect, organize, archive, preserve, then write a report. Document. Make your presentation. The job of an artist is just not to forget."
"Åñëè òû õóäîæíèê, òû îðãàíèçóåøü ñâîþ æèçíü òàê, ÷òîáû ó òåáÿ áûëî âðåìÿ íà çàíÿòèÿ æèâîïèñüþ, âîò òîëüêî íåò ãàðàíòèè, ÷òî òû ñîçäàøü õîòü ÷òî-íèáóäü äîñòîéíîå âñåõ òâîèõ óñèëèé. Òåáÿ íåîòâÿçíî ïðåñëåäóåò ìûñëü, ÷òî òû òðàòèøü æèçíü ïîíàïðàñíó."
"As an artist, you organize your life so you get a chance to paint, a window of time, but that’s no guarantee you’ll create anything worth all your effort. You’re always haunted by the idea you’re wasting your life."
"Ìîæíî ïîâòîðÿòü îäíè è òå æå ÷óäåñà âíîâü è âíîâü, ãëàâíîå, ÷òîáû ïðî íèõ óæå âñå óñïåëè çàáûòü."
"You can repeat the same miracles over and over as long as no one remembers the last time."
"Æåíùèíû ïðîñòî èùóò îñîáü ìóæñêîãî ïîëà ñ íàèëó÷øèìè ôèçè÷åñêèìè äàííûìè äëÿ âîñïèòàíèÿ ðåá¸íêà."
"Women just look for the best physical specimen to father their children."
" ìèðå íåò íè÷åãî îñîáåííîãî. Íèêàêîé ìàãèè. Ñïëîøíàÿ ôèçèêà. Ôèçèîëîãèÿ."
"There is nothing special in the world. Nothing magic. Just physics."
"Èñêóññòâî, âäîõíîâåíèå, ëþáîâü - èõ òàê ëåãêî àíàòîìèðîâàòü. Îáúÿñíèòü, ëèøèòü òàéíû."
"Art, inspiration, love, they’re all so easy to dissect. To explain away."
"Öåëü íå â òîì, ÷òîáû æèòü âå÷íî. Öåëü â òîì, ÷òîáû ñîçäàòü íå÷òî áåññìåðòíîå."
"The goal isn’t to live forever, the goal is to create something that will."
"Çàáûòü áîëü òàê òðóäíî - íî åù¸ òðóäíåå ïîìíèòü õîðîøåå. Ñ÷àñòüå íå îñòàâëÿåò øðàìîâ. Ìèðíûå âðåìåíà íè÷åìó íàñ íå ó÷àò."
"It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace."
"Ïîðîé öåëü âñåé æèçíè - îáíàðóæèòü, êåì òû óæå áûëà."
"Your whole life is about discovering who you already were."
"Îãðàíè÷åííîñòü íàøåãî ëè÷íîãî âîñïðèÿòèÿ. Ñêóäíûé îáú¸ì íàøåãî ëè÷íîãî îïûòà. Íàøå æàëêîå âûñøåå îáðàçîâàíèå. Íàñ ó÷àò, ÷òî íàáëþäàòåëü óïðàâëÿåò íàáëþäåíèåì. Õóäîæíèê ì¸ðòâ. Ìû âèäèì òî, ÷òî õîòèì óâèäåòü. Âèäèì òàê, êàê õîòèì óâèäåòü. Ìû âèäèì òîëüêî ñåáÿ. Âñ¸, ÷òî ìîæåò õóäîæíèê, - ýòî ñîçäàòü ïðåäìåò, íà êîòîðûé ìû áóäåì ñìîòðåòü."
"Our limited personal perception. Our tiny body of experience. Our half-assed education. How the viewer controls the view. How the artist is dead. We see what we want. We see how we want. We only see ourselves. All the artist can do is give us something to look at."