Friday, March 23
It's good to have the tools in hand. Hammers, text editors, knives,
internal-combustion engines. Necessary things. But a fetishism of tools seems
like as much a trap as anything.
I found myself complaining the other night that I haven't got a real office
of my very own with a proper desk in it so that I can get things done. This way
lies madness. What do I need that I haven't got or cannot fashion from the
materials at hand?
To hell with this entire chain of thought. It ends in believing that some
brand new Apple product makes me a better artist, or a similar descent into