#paint

It's a small world, but I wouldn't want to paint it. ↗

— Steven Wright

#paint #world #humor

And I hide behind these books I read while scribbling my poetry, like art could save a wretch like me with some ideal ideology that no one could hope to achieve. And I’m never real, it’s just a sketch of me. And everything I’ve made is trite and cheap and a waste of paint, of tape, of time. ↗

— Conor Oberst

#art

To reach the farthest chamber of Lascaux, it's likely a man had to snuff out his light, lower himself down a shaft with a rope made of twisted fibers, and then rekindle his lamp in the dark so as to draw the woolly rhinoceros, the half horse, and the raging bison there. A long spear transfixes that bison, and entrails pour from its side. Beneath its front hooves lies the one painted man in all of Lascaux: prone, spindly wounded, disguised behind a bird mask. And below him, until its discovery in 196o, lay a spoon-shaped lamp carved of red sandstone ... Hold it again as it once was held, and the animals will emerge out of darkness as you pass. Nothing stays still. Shadows nestle in the cavities; a flicker of light across pale protruding rock turns a hoof or raises a head. One shape recedes as another emerges, and everything lingers in the imagination. ↗

— Jane Brox

#light #imagination

I want to thank anyone who spends a part of their day creating, I don't care if it's a book, a film, a painting, a dance, a piece of theater, a piece of music - anybody who spends part of their day sharing their experience with us - I think this world would be unlivable without art and I thank you. ↗

— Steven Soderbergher

#book #creating #dance #experience #film

My early paintings weren't that good - I was very influenced by Francis Bacon. But there was a kind of intensity there. And however influenced they may have been by other people, even my earliest paintings were recognisably my own. ↗

— Julian Schnabel

#been #earliest #early #even #francis

Now you are walking in Paris all alone in the crowd As herds of bellowing buses drive by Love's anguish tightens your throat As if you were never to be loved again If you lived in the old days you would enter a monastery You are ashamed when you discover yourself reciting a prayer You make fun of yourself and like the fire of Hell your laughter crackles The sparks of your laugh gild the depths of your life It's a painting hanging in a dark museum And sometimes you go and look at it close up ↗

— Guillaume Apollinaire

#city #crowd #laughing #laughter #love

The reason some portraits don't look true to life is that some people make no effort to resemble their pictures. ↗

— Salvador Dalí

#pictures #portrait #resemble #true-to-life #life

I swing my arms to loosen myself up. Place my fists on my hips. then drop them to my sides. Saliva's filling my mouth at a ridiculous rate and i feel vomit at the back of my throat. I swallow hard and open my lips so I can get the stupid line out and go hide in the woods and-that's when i start crying. ↗

— Suzanne Collins

#dystopia-fiction #paintings #teen-fiction #teen

It was strange walking through the empty apartment. My battered purple room was gone, Brittany’s bruised blue was gone. Two coats covered everything. It was like none of it had ever happened. ↗

— Kimberly Novosel

#growing-up #moving-on #paint #painting #purple

I say that good painters imitated nature; but that bad ones vomited it. ↗

— Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

#nature #painting #art