jill johnston gets off her bike to criticize the constellations.
Criticism wears me out—it’s like riding a bike up and down the country hills in a race against a phantom judge. I’ll take a plot of level territory and stake out a claim to lie down and criticize the constellations if that’s what I happen to be looking at. I also stake out a claim to be an artist, a writer, if that’s what I’m doing when I get to the typewriter and decide that I liked something well enough to say what I think it’s all about.
— Jill Johnston, “Critics’ Critics,” Marmelade Me