Showing posts with label Anais Nin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anais Nin. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Just A Brooklyn Boy - Henry Miller

Portrait of Henry Miller In Big Sur by Henri Cartier-Bresson
 
I've never read The Tropic of Cancer. Truth is, I'm a embarrassed to say I've never read a single solitary book by Henry Miller. What I did know about him wasn't much, until now. A person might get the impression he was rather chauvinistic, philandering man.  But I see him rather as a hopeless romantic, perhaps chasing after the illusive ideal love.

I believe he possessed a deeply creative soul. A philosopher of sorts, and definitely had 'street cred', and in his own words "I'm just a Brooklyn boy."  "I lived in the street and acquired the typical American gangster spirit."


His love affair with Anaïs Nin, gained a lot of notoriety, mostly because of her dairies I think. He was married five times. I get the impression both men and women found him charismatic.
Oh to have a time machine as I envy his life and time in Paris, being surrounded by artists, and writers.

I admire Henry Miller because he had the courage and the audacity to be himself. He had the fortitude to follow his passions and convictions regardless of what others thought. Money and fame were never his priority. 

The fact that he was a painter before he was a writer, I find really compelling, and what he had to say about painting even more so.

I found a great site, which is a tribute to him, by Dr. Hugo Heyrman. It's full of photos and facts with loads of information.

I intend to try and track down Henry Miller's book, To Paint Is To Love Again.

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Keeping A Diary



Keeping a journal for so many years, I sometimes think, wow, what dribble. Intellectually I know this isn't the truth, and it's just my inner critic speaking, as I do believe and have experienced the creative benefit of journaling especially because helps me as an artist.

A journal for me is a confidante, best friend, therapist, archive, prayer, sometimes entertainment, my memory and reflection. It is a daily life story, regardless of how trivial, or mundane.

 When I have looked back over the 30 years of entries, I've on occasion hardly recognized myself, but I know this is my journal, and I wrote it. I write for no one but myself, so it matters not what the content is, my pen to pages.

Yesterday I read an interesting and affirming Brain Pickings article, about the thoughts of famous writers on the benefits of keeping a dairy or a journal. It's worth a read.