Cyril Connolly was a British literary critic who lived-
Ah. Excuse me. Yes?
"What do you think?"
"Of these rough layouts."
Well, I'm not exactly sure that's Molly, isn't it?
"It's the bit with the guitar. On the corner. Remember? So. What do you think?"
It looks good.
"You're just saying that."
No, really. I like the, uh. The thing, there. I can't wait to see it finished. Now, I need to get back to
Picture it in your mind's eye: the Artist, alone in her drafty garret studio, isolated from friends, family, the ten thousand distractions of the everyday world, the better to concentrate on her struggle with the ineffable. Breathing deeply, she takes up pen or paintbrush, chisel or keyboard, to seek out all on her own the elusive fruits of her solitary labor – her Art.
It's a persistent image. Downright iconic. It's pretty much how we think of artists doing art. It's also a load of malarkey.