About Carl Heppenstall

Becoming the Artist I Want to Be

Public Notes

Recent Activity

  • Carl shared from My Bright Abyss: Meditation of a Modern Believer by Christian Wiman
    A Christian who has lived with a steady but essentially shallow form of faith may find himself called to suffer the full human truth of God, which is the absence of God, may find himself finally confronted with the absolute emptiness of the cross. God calls to us at every moment, and God is life, this life. Radical change remains a possibility within us right up until our last breath. The greatest tragedy of human existence is not to live in time, in both senses of that phrase.
    Note: Christian Wiman on how we are responsible for the quality of our faith.
  • Carl shared from The Collected Novels of José Saramago by José Saramago
    all the left-overs must be burnt, and this includes not only any food, but also the containers, plates and cutlery which are all made of combustible material, eighth, the burning should be done in the inner courtyards of the building or in the exercise yard, ninth, the internees are responsible for any damage caused by these fires, tenth, in the event of a fire getting out of control, whether accidentally or on purpose, the firemen will not intervene, eleventh, equally, the internees cannot count on any outside intervention should there be any outbreaks of illnesses, nor in the event of any disorder...
    Note: The difficulty of the absurdity of a Saramago prison, a few rules:
  • Carl shared from Amulet by Roberto Bolaño
    And now my memories, wandering without rhyme or reason backward and forward from that helpless month of September 1968 mumble and stutter and tell me that I decided to stay there and wait in that watery sunlight, standing on a corner, listening to all the sounds of Mexico City, down to the sound of architectural shadows pursuing one another like wild animals sprung from a taxidermist’s lair.
    Note: Bolano's magic. ...
  • Carl shared from Three Novels: Molloy, Malone Dies, The Unnamable by Samuel Beckett
    The black speck I was, in the great pale stretch of sand, who could wish it harm? Some came near, to see what it was, whether it wasn’t something of value from a wreck, washed up by the storm. But when they saw the jetsam was alive, decently if wretchedly clothed, they turned away. Old women and young ones, yes, too, come to gather wood, came and stared, in the early days. But they were always the same and it was in vain I moved from one place to another, in the end they all knew what I was and kept their distance.
  • Carl shared from Finnegans Wake & Exiles (Timeless Wisdom Collection Book 1267) by James Joyce
    Whatif she be in flags or flitters, reekierags or sundyechosies, with a mint of mines or beggar a pinnyweight. Arrah, sure, we all love little Anny Ruiny, or, we mean to say, lovelittle Anna Rayiny, when unda her brella, mid piddle med puddle, she ninnygoes nannygoes nancing by. Yoh! Brontolone slaaps, yoh snoores.
(Overland Park, KS USA)
Carl Heppenstall