I’m a sucker for the healing power you can mine in bleak hopelessness. There’s something that happens in the depressed arts where it can wash over you, resonating in harmony with your own sadness, and soothe it away for a while.
“The tension of a finely crafted sentence – one which I attempt to fashion or one which I consume – offers me all the adventure I need – for if I never arrive at closure, to take stock of the cumulative ambiguities “between the lines,” how will I know where I am?”
Mary Caponegro