Saturday, 8 October 2011

today I am not urgent, bizarrely not feeling urgent about the urgency of finite amounts of time to do. stuff. ok, feel a bit urgent again now. but it'll wane yeah?

treating this blog like a digital scrapbook:

Tom McCarthy ripped art writing a new arsehole in art monthly last month, but I like F.R David's covers. The line 'art writing provides a platform for bad writers' (not verbatim) was particularly cutting, and not perhaps fair, I think that the arbitrary distinctions between creative writing, poetry and art writing are what is contentious.




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