Friday, January 02, 2009

Jack Kerouac

Posted earlier today by my friend Angela Winter on Facebook:

Belief & Technique for Modern Prose -- List of Essentials
by Jack Kerouac

Scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for yr own joy

--Submissive to everything, open, listening
--Try never get drunk outside yr own house
--Be in love with yr life
--Something that you feel will find its own form
--Be crazy dumbsaint of the mind
--Blow as deep as you want to blow
--Write what you want bottomless from bottom of the mind
--The unspeakable vision of the individual
--No time for poetry but exactly what is
--Visionary tics shivering in the chest
--In tranced fixation dreaming upon object before you
--Remove literary, grammatical and syntactical inhibition
--Like Proust, be an old teahead of time
--Telling the true story of the world in interior monolog
--The jewel center of interest is the eye within the eye
--Write in recollection and amazement for yourself
--Work from pithy middle eye out, swimming in language sea
--Accept loss forever
--Believe in the holy contour of life
--Struggle to sketch the flow that already exists intact in mind
--Dont [sic] think of words when you stop but to see picture better
--Keep track of every day the date emblazoned in yr morning
--No fear or shame in the dignity of yr experience, language & knowledge
--Write for the world to read and see yr exact pictures of it
--Bookmovie is the movie in words, the visual American form
--In Praise of Character in the Bleak inhuman Loneliness
--Composing wild, undisciplined, pure, coming in from under, crazier the better
--You're a Genius all the time
--Writer-Director of Earthly movies Sponsored & Angeled in Heaven

As ever, Jack


ggw07 said...

Absolutely terrific! Thanks much for sharing!
Happy fruitful new year!

Andrew said...

Yes, complements Notes On Spontaneous Bop Prosody (essay title by memory, forgive me if it's wrong). Ah, but a different time and a different place (space and race).



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"I was no better than dust, yet you cannot replace me. . . Take the soft dust in your hand--does it stir: does it sing? Has it lips and a heart? Does it open its eyes to the sun? Does it run, does it dream, does it burn with a secret, or tremble In terror of death? Or ache with tremendous decisions?. . ." --Conrad Aiken


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