The ways in which this country is fucked up are too manifold to go in to in this humble little blog. But I would like to take up, for a moment, the issue of this country’s relationship to art and artists.
“Uh oh. Another plaintive whine from an artist who feels he’s unappreciated. THIS is gonna be fun to read!”
Fear not. I’ve always felt that though a life in the arts is difficult, it is also a choice. No one put a gun to my head to make me a playwright. When I decided to do this, I knew more or less (well, actually less – but that’s another story) what I was in for. I don’t want to talk not about myself here. I want to talk about Francis Ford Coppola.
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