“I love the performance of a craft, whether it is modest or mean-spirited, yet I walk away when discussions of it begin - as if one should ask a gravedigger what brand of shovel he uses or whether he prefers to work at noon or in moonlight. I am interested only in the care taken, and those secret rehearsals behind it. Even if I do not understand fully what is taken place. One of my pleasures, when I was a boy, was to ride alongside the Garonne to where four steam engines were set up on the riverbank, pumping water out for the city of Toulouse. In all that be-stilled countryside, where you could hear a single croak of a duck, the engines suddenly roared into life, like grand apes spitting and shoving against the edge of the water. I was hypnotized. It was as if they were adults in their noisy complex labors. It was as if they could bring on darkness.”
—Divisadero
“Finding the final home for one’s remaining days was like a decision to be made in a fairy tale, with the prince or princess needing to select a marriage partner before twilight. It had to be a wise but also private desire, knowing what was honestly needed, although at first it might seem appalling - a blind girl instead of a chatelaine, a hedgehog instead of a blue-blooded suitor. The outside world would not know best.”
—Divisadero
“She had a name as small as a keyhole.”
—Divisadero
