De Daumier-Smith’s Blue Period
(An excerpt from the story by J.D. Salinger)
The thought was forced on me that no matter how coolly or sensibly or gracefully I might one day learn to live my life, I would always at best be a visitor in a garden of enamel urinals and bedpans, with a sightless, wooden dummy-deity standing by in a marked-down rupture truss.
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This entry was posted on December 31, 2008 at 6:06 pm and is filed under Uncategorized with tags art, de daumier-smith's blue period, fiction, j.d. salinger, life, literature, short stories, writing. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
