Wonderful Hilma Wolitzer.
Always loved her writing.
Now I love her even more.
She’s got a new book and she’s
in her nineties. Hope
for every one of us
https://lithub.com/the-long-and-the-short-of-it-hilma-wolitzer-on-returning-to-short-fiction-in-her-90s/?utm_source=Sailthru&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Lit%20Hub%20Daily%3A%20November%202%2C%202022&utm_term=lithub_master_list&fbclid=IwAR2ygMP6BlPyRHmgTabUgroE1EqT1jJMvRkjleTQU3Upjv21QNN3N6Ff_Gg
frank o hara
Why I Am Not a Painter," written in 1956:"
One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven't mentioned
orange yet. It's twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike's painting, called SARDINES.
"