“What garlic is to salad, insanity is to art”: Augustus Saint-Gaudens.

What will we do here? I want to have fun, poke my mischievous fingers into the things around us, and have a sideways slanted peek into the everyday and the odd. It’s a Jamie-style salad: bring some garlic to throw in when you come. If you like.

The plan is manifold and always changing – but here’s the initial manifesto (for my benefit more than yours, I suspect):

– language is for playing with

– creativity should be messy and incomplete

– don’t be shy or die curious

– don’t apologise unless you’ve really done something wrong; otherwise, no permissions required

– don’t waste life subsuming yourself in chasing others’ approval

– laugh out loud when you’re on your own to frighten the neighbours.

Here is the Imp, last week, reflecting on how you can read all you like, write like a thing possessed and do your very best, but all in all, you’re a bit crap if you forget to live life, here, now, and not in the regrets and what-ifs of the past and the future.

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