Haven't really known what to write. This DFW thing has messed with my head a little more than it probably should. Work for the past few days has been incredibly slow, so I've had about 6 hours a day to do nothing but stand around and think about it, and feel bad, and wonder, and be scared, and sad. I think that it's a pretty ludicrous reaction to the death of somebody you never knew, and I'm embarrassed to be writing it, but there it is.
I watched this yesterday, and it didn't help at all, but I'm glad I watched it. It's long, and it's from over a decade ago so there's a distance there, but I like it.
"What the really great artists do is: they're entirely themselves. They're entirely themselves, they've got their own vision, their own way of fracturing reality, and that if it's authentic and true you will feel it in your nerve endings." (27:08)
That's the last I'm gonna write about him, for now.
