In my undergrad literature class, Novels : Now and Then, our teacher asked us to come up with motives for writing. We slowly started calling out the more noble reasons for the novelists pursuit, such as : to impart knowledge, to explain an experience, to tell a story… etc. When our teacher tired of our naivete she started writing on the board other motives for writing novels, such as: revenge, to get laid, to invoke pity/love/hate/lust/sadness, to put food on the table.. etc.
Looking back, I realize we forgot the most basic reason why people write, or act, or paint or draw or photograph or do design shit, or art shit, or sport shit or any shit for that matter. It’s because we want to, it’s because to not do so would be absolutely, fucking unbearable. Read the rest of this entry »
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