Lynda Barry (born Linda Jean Barry; January 2, 1956) is an American cartoonist, author, and teacher.
For horror movies, color is reassuring because, at least in older films, it adds to the fakey-ness.
Love is an exploding cigar we willingly smoke.
Then how can you ever know about the beautiful goodness of Mud? How bad it wants to be things. How bad it wants to get on your legs and arms and take your footprints and handprints and how bad it wants you to make it alive! Mud is always ready to play with you. Seriously you should try it!
These are very confusing times. For the first time in history a woman is expected to combine: intelligence with a sharp hairdo, a raised consciousness with high heels, and an open, nonsexist relationship with a tan guy who has a great bod.
I used to live a very social life and never spend much solitary time looking at birds or reading.
I need to be cheered up a lot. I think funny people are people who need to be cheered up.
I think of images as an immune system and a transit system.
Part of a horror movie has to be a bit fakey for me to really enjoy it. The new ones are so realistic that they distract me from the ride through the horror.
My goal on my bucket list is to write a romantic comedy movie.
You have to be willing to spend time making things for no known reason.
No matter what, expect the unexpected. And whenever possible BE the unexpected.
It is true that I am a person with black pockets of evil and hatred in my heart. There are underground places inside of me
When you start to think of the arts as not this thing that is going to get you somewhere in terms of becoming an artist or becoming famous or whatever it is that people do, but rather a way of making being in the world not just bearable, but fascinating, then it starts to get interesting again.
I've gotten a lot of livid letters about the awfulness of my work. I've never known what to make of it. Why do people bother to write if they hate what I do?
something can only become an illusion after disillusionment. before that, it is something real. what caused the disillusionment? no one told me the print on the wall was just ink and paper and had no life of its own. at some point the cat stopped blinking, and i stopped thinking it could.
The strips are nearly effortless unless I am really emotionally upset, a wreck.
Cartoonist was the weirdest name I finally let myself have. I would never say it. When I heard it I silently thought, what an awful word.
Flies die in so many lonely places. -Roberta Rohbeson
A man who has been dead for a week in a hot trailer looks more like a man than you would first expect.
When you think about it, giving up your real personality is a small price to pay for the richness of living happily ever after with an actual man!