art vs life
i'm bringing this higher because it really facinates me.
kundera discussed this in one of his books and i just loved it. he focused on kafka as kafka's kafka vs. kafka as max brod's kafka.
but here is the thing that i'd like you all to ponder: how do we balance the imporance of the artist's deliberate body of work vs. the artist's unintended body of work, the body of work as it's perceived thru the work of various biographers and discovered love letters, etc.
maybe it will help to imagine ourselves as artists ... i mean, we are, really. we have some things that we've posted here: stories, poems, etc. would you choose to separate those from the stupid things you said to your lover in that card when you were in france and she was doing god knows what with her best friend who you thought was gay, or something, you know? not that lots of us dont post silly love things here, too.... ahem. but do you see what i'm getting at?
please, humor me. this really interests me.