Kurt Vonnegut. Kurt Vonnegut, Kurt Vonnegut. He did some bad things. He did a lot of great things. Life is complex, I’m learning. Anyway, I was cleaning earlier, and flipped through Letters (which is great and reassuring). Here’s a piece of advice, from his syllabus for Form and Theory of Fiction (which “became Form of Fiction, then Form and Texture of Fiction, then Surface Criticism, or How to Talk out of the Corner of Your Mouth Like a Real Tough Pro”).
I want you to adore the Universe, to be easily delighted, but to be prompt as well with impatience with those artists who offend your own deep notions of what the Universe is or should be.
I’ve been an – the? – archivist at Culver’s for three weeks now. I wrote a mission statement for the archive that was signed off on last week by the head of the company. I’ve taken inventory of fifteen boxes. I’ve been elbow-deep in boxes filled with videos and videos and videos in formats I’ve never seen and don’t understand. (Always have friends who are smarter – and more generous with their time – than you. They’ll help you because they’re great.) I leave for Washington DC in twelve days. Less than two weeks.
Here’s to adventure.