Looks like my kitty Willis… we usually use catnip therapy with him, though!
Looks like my kitty Willis… we usually use catnip therapy with him, though!
“The Journey”, Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
“This journey is long but there are prayers being told to smooth your fantasy pathway,” my Wind did say. “A toast to you as well! I send sunshine; and the mist of rainbows wherever you go.” And with that the Wind went on its way. “I’ve much to do,” quite breezily he said. “And after that I must go out and play.”
– Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
Jessie at Diary of a Self-Portrait is longing for an artist’s journey to India. She’s just made a very difficult choice, giving up her studio, but may not yet fully realize this is the first step in her new journey. It’s going to be an interesting year for her! Sunshine and Rainbows to you, Jessie, sunshine and rainbows… and now, I must go out and play!
Journeys, like artists, are born and not made. A thousand differing circumstances contribute to them, few of them willed or determined by the will –whatever we may think.
– Lawrence Durrell
“Your journey never ends. Life has a way of changing things in incredible ways.” — Alexander Volkov
Every perfect traveler always creates the country where he travels.
– nikos kazantzakis
A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.
– John Steinbeck
The ultimate truth of the journey and its final rewards are still for each of us to face alone.
– Deng Ming-Dao
I soon realized that no journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance into the world within.
– Lillian Smith
What’s the point? Why all of this walking? It is simply because Tao only can be found in the journey that is in the walking. Tao, true, real, permanent, nameless Tao cannot be found in any book, or in any school.
– Bill Bunting
“Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.”
— Matsuo Basho
“The soul of a journey is liberty, perfect liberty, to think, feel, do just as one pleases”
– William Hazlitt
“What people forget is a journey to nowhere starts with a single step, too.”
— Chuck Palahniuk
One ship sails East,
And another West,
By the self-same winds that blow,
Tis the set of the sails
And not the gales,
That tells the way we go.
Like the winds of the sea
Are the waves of time,
As we journey along through life,
Tis the set of the soul,
That determines the goal,
And not the calm or the strife.
Seedling — Ben Kwok
An image of a woman desperately waiting for her loved one who never shows up. She’s been waiting so long that she became grounded and will never connect with her soul mate. Sometimes we never fulfill our heart’s desire.
Work without doing.
Taste the tasteless.
Magnify the small, increase the few.
Reward the bitterness with care.
See significance in the complicated.
Achieve greatness in little things.
In the universe the difficult things are done as if they are easy.
In the universe great acts are made up of small deeds.
The sage does not attempt anything very big,
And thus achieves greatness.
Easy promises make for little trust.
Taking things lightly results in great difficulty.
Because the sage always confronts difficulties,
He never experiences them.
Tao Te Ching – Lao Tzu – chapter 63
Time to stop digging up the seedlings and let the new life grow. What seeds are you planting, and are you giving them the space they need, the nourishment they need, the water?
I asked for seeds yesterday at the hardware store, and they had none in yet — but here in San Diego, it is time to start our seedlings. I’ll get them elsewhere today, or use the ones I already have in storage. I’m trying more and more to use what I already have instead of buying something new. In my garden, some seedlings are coming up all by themselves — tomatoes especially. They come up in random places, sometimes they have to be carefully moved. Sometimes there are weed seedlings that have to be dealt with. Are you maintaining your gardens, letting the new life grow, carefully weeding out those weed seeds, those nagging thoughts that are only distracting and not beneficial?
Reward the bitterness with care…
My petty little jealousies and envies must go. My little annoyances and irritations — they need to go, too. Those little seedlings of creativity, those little thoughts of what I might do, could do, those small steps that need to be taken — ah, those have to be nurtured and encouraged, watered and cared for, given the space and time they need to grow now. I can’t keep crushing them, or drowning them, or burying them. Space, sunlight, room, pure water, good nourishment — these are the things I need right now.
I’m seeing lots of these woman/nature/tree images lately — the Wyeth piece, on Leah’s blog, as she creates new artwork, and in other places. Perhaps it is the hint of spring bringing these images up. I have a dryad piece I did a few years ago, haven’t dug it out lately but I might. And other images forming in my mind, too. What will come of them? We’ll see. Do me a favor and please add your links to these kinds of images in the comments if you see them. (They may not post right away as comments sometimes get moderated if there are links in them).
Who knows, maybe somewhere along the way I will fulfill my heart’s desire.
Jessie’s post on “sacred” today reminded me of this posting from 2007, and how I need to restore the sacred space in my life:
Joseph Campbell wrote of the need for such a place. He said, “You must have a room or a certain hour of the day or so where you do not know what is in the morning paper. A place where you can simply experience and bring forth what you are and what you might be. At first you may think nothing’s happening. But if you have a sacred space and take advantage of it and use it everyday, something will happen”. Such a place does not need to be large. It can be an alcove off a bedroom, an unused corner of the basement, or an attic, as in my own home. Take time to make it beautiful, make it an expression of who you are, whether simple and unadorned, or filled with treasures collected over a lifetime. And make it a pattern of your daily routine to spend time there each day, in meditation, in contemplation, or in creative exploration. We are amazing creatures, every one of us, but we forget so easily, when we don’t take the time to listen to our inner being.
Other posts centering on the word sacred here:
I dreamed last night that I was trying to follow a woman with graying hair, who seemed to be a bit older version of myself in a way. She moved too fast, though, and I couldn’t keep up with her. I kept having to pick up various bags I had been dropping, and eventually lost track of her.
Simplicity is making the journey of this life with just baggage enough.”
– Charles Dudley Warner
I think the label of “artist” is loaded and has a strange sort of baggage attached to it. People say, “I’m not an artist! I can barely draw a straight line” and I always cringe when I hear this. What’s so interesting about a straight line anyway? It is not an exclusive club, this artist thing. It’s just a bunch of people who like to play, to make things, to dream up ideas, to color, to sing, to build, to string words together. Don’t we all? I think it helps to remove the labels. — Andrea Scher
Although Patanjali wrote 196 sutras concerning yoga, only three of them pertain exclusively to the asana. The first concerns the means — firm, relaxed postures; the second concerns the end — effortless oneness with what is. The sutra above speaks to the first stumbling block most of us encounter in our practice: we try too hard… we come to yoga with cultural baggage that says we are not enough and never will be. We must improve, we must pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, we must try harder and make some progress. With more effort, we think, and a little more strain, we will get more out of the posture. The mistake is believing we can get where we are going through effort. Patanjali defines success as effortlessness. Floating in the center of our postures, the center of our experience, we succeed by moving into harmony with the moment, our limbs, our breath, our awareness. — Rolf Gates, Meditations from the Mat
The heavy is the root of the light;
The still is the master of unrest.
Therefore the sage, traveling all day,
Does not lose sight of his baggage.
Though there are beautiful things to be seen,
He remains unattached and calm.
Why should the lord of ten thousand chariots
act lightly in public?
To be light is to lose one’s root.
To be restless is to lose one’s control.
– Tao Te Ching, 26
Standing on tiptoe, one is unsteady.
Taking long steps, one quickly tires.
Showing off, one shows unenlightenment.
Displaying self-righteousness, one reveals vanity.
Praising the self, one earns no respect.
Exaggerating achievements, one cannot long endure.
Followers of the Way consider these
Extra food, unnecessary baggage.
They bring no happiness.
Therefore, followers of the Way
– Tao Te Ching, 24
Storm breaks into pieces,
Clouds charge the horizon.
Revolving of the heavens
Generates all movement.
Without movement, there could be nothing created in this universe. The revolving of the heavens can generate wind, rain, thunder, lightning. The revolving of the earth enables us to have day and night, the very cycle of the weather, the seasons, and the growth of plants. Movement is responsible for creativity.
Followers of Tao value initiative, but mere aggression is not enough. One needs creativity. This can mean the ability to solve problems, to think of unusual strategies, or to compose poetry, music, and painting. In all these cases, one moves in concert with Tao not by blind aping, but by giving intelligent counterpoint and harmony. Creativity does not mean the arbitrary making of something out of our cultural minds. Rather, it is spontaneous movement in tandem with Tao, a movement that will generate life and not misery for others.
One has reached the ultimate levels of creativity when one has mastered a skill so thoroughly that it can be forgotten. Look at heaven and earth. Do they think about creating the weather, the seasons, and the cycles of growing? They only go on revolving according to their nature, and the rest is generated without any thought or work on their part. This is truly effortless action and is considered the highest skill that a follower of Tao can attain.
Do you think you are creative? Most people don’t believe they are, and yet they create something every day – a meal, a letter, their appearance, a joke, a story, whatever. Our society works to tell us we are not creative, pouring images of pre-fabricated products at us so we don’t have to think about creating things on our own. When people had to build their daily needs for themselves, they felt more creative. How many of us play music in our homes anymore, write letters to each other, simply talk to each other to create our own entertainment? I think the popularity of blogging comes from our need simply to hear and tell stories to each other.
When I am working on an art project, I get into the creative flow, very much in the moment, with the Tao. When I am in my garden, creating new life by planting seeds or trimming plants to enhance their beauty, I feel this same flow. These days I can sometimes get into it just talking with people or going about my daily routine, as I learn to be more aware of my surroundings and what is happening around me and within me. I look at my blog posting and see the header of “Create New Entry”, and get that satisfaction of creating something new, a thought I hadn’t realized before or an idea that just popped into my head. I know these things were really there before, but I hadn’t verbalized them, just as I often see an image of what I want to paint or know how I want a plant in my garden to look before I trim it.
Creativity is about taking what is in our heads and making it happen, whatever that may be. We are all creative, every day, every moment, since we are making things happen merely by our existence and presence in the world. So don’t say you are not creative – you are.
The blogroll will be changing again as political stuff falls by the wayside and I find new interests to pursue. I’m going back to some old interests as well — you’ll see more artists linked here, and hopefully more of my own art popping up again. I’m going to restart the art journaling and try to bring back some of my creative spirit, which has lain dormant for some time while I helped to create our new political change. Whatever small part I did in keeping people focused and informed on politics, it seems to have been enough, along with the work of so many others who did way more than I did.
Also of course a big return to the Tao focus. I’ll be looking for more new sources of inspiration, more Tao bloggers, and maybe reposting the older Tao posts. Return being, after all, one of the major themes of Tao philosophy.
Let me know if there are things you would like to see here, too. I’m more than happy to research areas of interest for anyone, and post what I find here. I seem to be great at finding things of all sorts. Never figured out what to do with that skill, but I has it. Would’ve made a terrific researcher, I suppose, in just about any field.
Sadly, this young boy is a friend of our sons….
We are heartbroken for John’s wife Deb and their family today…. there are no words….
The body of a 45-year-old diver was found yesterday afternoon after a five-hour search off La Jolla Shores.
John Sonsteng, of Poway, and his 19-year-old son were diving for the first time after receiving their certification at a depth of about 150 feet at 9 a.m. when Sonsteng ran out of air, San Diego lifeguard Lt. John Greenhalgh said.
Search teams from the U.S. Coast Guard and lifeguard agencies around the county scoured the sea for hours before finding Sonsteng using a remote-controlled underwater vehicle about 2:30 p.m.
When Sonsteng ran out of air, the two began “buddy breathing,” sharing the air supply from the son’s tank as they tried to ascend to the surface, but they became separated.
The son told authorities that he continued to ascend, but he too ran out of air at about 40 feet below the surface, Greenhalgh said.
When he surfaced in front of the La Jolla Shores lifeguard station, about a quarter of a mile out to sea, he began waving his arms and caught the attention of a lifeguard.
The teen was taken to UCSD Medical Center in Hillcrest as a precautionary measure because of his rapid ascent. He was listed in “stable but guarded condition” yesterday, a nursing supervisor said. It was unclear whether he was suffering from decompression sickness, in which gas bubbles form in the bloodstream.
Rescuers launched an immediate search with dive teams, a helicopter and boats, but by 10 a.m. the mission was reclassified as a recovery effort, Greenhalgh said. Divers from the Coast Guard and other agencies later responded to aid in the search.
Dive instructor Todd Young, with Aqua Tech Dive Center, said his group of student divers had just completed their first dive when lifeguards ordered all divers in the area out of the water.
Young said novice recreational divers are taught not to exceed a depth of 60 feet unless they have more advanced training. Divers who breathe high-pressure gas at extreme depths can begin to feel as though they are drunk and judgment can be seriously impaired.
“We preach that you should always be watching your gauges and compass,” Young said.
In the morning! In August! In San Diego! Weird… and it won’t last long…but nice.
Ah. Apparently this is partly the influence of tropical storm Julio drawing in moisture. Things could get interesting later in the week as this gets closer…
I don’t think Dubya is in any position to compare anyone to Nazi appeasers.
George Bush’s grandfather, the late US senator Prescott Bush, was a director and shareholder of companies that profited from their involvement with the financial backers of Nazi Germany.
The Guardian has obtained confirmation from newly discovered files in the US National Archives that a firm of which Prescott Bush was a director was involved with the financial architects of Nazism.
His business dealings, which continued until his company’s assets were seized in 1942 under the Trading with the Enemy Act, has led more than 60 years later to a civil action for damages being brought in Germany against the Bush family by two former slave labourers at Auschwitz and to a hum of pre-election controversy.
The evidence has also prompted one former US Nazi war crimes prosecutor to argue that the late senator’s action should have been grounds for prosecution for giving aid and comfort to the enemy.
Nice thoughts on creating life versus getting stuff from Christine Kane.
The laws of creativity apply to everything – not just to works of art.
The gift of practicing art is that it teaches the creator how to create, and how to be a creator. Over and over again, the artist learns the process of making things – including the obstacles that arise, the futility of forcing the flow, and the joy of allowing inspiration. This practice has been nothing less than revolutionary in my own life.
That’s because I grew up learning more about Getting than I did about Creating. And I’m not alone in that. Most of the life lessons we’ve all learned are about Getting.
We gotta get rich, get approved, get things from people, get a job, get a life, get laid, get publicity, get someone to do something, get approval, get high, get married, get a loan, get good grades, get a clue, get into college, get up, get down, get out.
Getting is an epidemic. It makes us grab at life. It takes us out of the present moment. It makes us powerless. It forces us to manipulate our own spirits so that we can manipulate the situation. Getting requires that we use our precious creative power to get, rather than to use it for its primary purpose, which is to Create. When we misuse this power, we become contorted. We block the flow. The focus is on “out there” rather than “in here.”
When we become Creators, we turn the whole thing around. Everything becomes an inside job. We experience true power. We create our lives.
Change and risk-taking are normal aspects of the creative process. They are the lubricants that keep the wheels in motion. A creative act is not necessarily something that has never been done; it is something you haven’t done before. — Margaret Mead
“The creative process is a process of surrender, not control.”
– Julia Cameron
“We are the yin and the yang of the creative process.”
– Cynthia Weil
“Imitation is at least 50 percent of the creative process”
– Jamie Buckingham
“Creativity is piercing the mundane to find the marvelous.”
– Bill Moyers
“Of all the qualities in your being, that which is most god-like is creativity” – Pir Ilayat Vilayat Khan
“It moves me when anybody is just wandering through life, sleepwalking, and then wakes up. It’s like the caterpillar to butterfly thing – the chrysalis. It’s just so moving because they’re not going to go to their grave with a slipping down life.” — Lili Taylor
I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?” — Chuang Tzu
“I embrace emerging experience.
I participate in discovery.
I am a butterfly.
I am not a butterfly collector.
I want the experience of the butterfly.”
— William Stafford
“The butterfly’s attractiveness derives not only from colors and symmetry: deeper motives contribute to it. We would not think them so beautiful if they did not fly, or if they flew straight and briskly like bees, or if they stung, or above all if they did not enact the perturbing mystery of metamorphosis: the latter assumes in our eyes the value of a badly decoded message, a symbol, a sign.”
– Primo Levi
I’ve always been fascinated with the process of change. I remember as a kid doing things like letting berries ferment in water, literally turning water into wine. I didn’t drink it, just enjoyed the process of it and the smell. I would bury things in the yard to see what happened to them, play with the moss that grew in the fountain. I was fascinated by things like my dad’s compost pile, seeing yard clippings change into fertilizer. I loved it when ice formed in the fountain and I could take it out in big sheets. I love watching the changes in my garden, watching plants grow, seeing the little chrysalis form when the caterpillars who munch holes in my passion flowers are ready to change to gulf fritillaries.
I suppose I come to the creative process the same way. I’m not too worried about the results, I just enjoy trying different techniques and materials and playing around with them to see what happens. I admire and appreciate artists who aren’t afraid to do something different, and I think that is ultimately why we consider an artist great – because they create their own unique approach. I was trying to show a friend why I love impressionistic art the other day, with the bright colors and the way the impressionist uses dark and light color contrasts to create movement in a painting. He seemed surprised I knew so much about art. But I would say I know about the art I enjoy, and try to figure out why I enjoy it. My husband is a fabulous art critic, something I didn’t know until I started asking him what he thought about my art. He always mentions something I didn’t even consciously realize I was doing, which is great.
So change and art go together naturally for me. But the risk to show myself through my art – ah, now there is the challenge…
“Trickster is a boundary-crosser. Every group has its edge, its sense of in and out, and trickster is always there, at the gates of the city and the gates of life, making sure there is commerce. He also attends the internal boundaries by which groups articulate their social life. We constantly distinguish — right and wrong, sacred and profane, clean and dirty, male and female, young and old, living and dead — and in every case trickster will cross the line and confuse the distinction. Trickster is the creative idiot, therefore, the wise fool, the grey-haired baby, the crossdresser, the speaker of sacred profanities. Where someone’s sense of honorable behavior has left him unable to act, trickster will appear to suggest an amoral action, something right/wrong that will get life going again. ztrickster is the mythic embodiment of ambiguity and ambivalence, doubleness and duplicity, contradiction and paradox.
That trickster is a boundary-crosser is the standard line… there are also cases in which trickster creates a boundary, or brings to the surface a distinction previously hidden from sight. In several mythologies, for example, the gods lived on earth until something trickster did caused them to rise into heaven. Trickster is thus the author of the great distance between heaven and earth; when he becomes the messenger of the gods it’s as if he has been enlisted to solve a problem he himself created. In a case like that, boundary creation and boundary crossing are related to one another, and the best way to describe trickster is to say simply that the boundary is where he will be found — sometimes drawing the line, sometimes crossing it, sometimes erasing or moving it, but always there, the god of the threshold in all its forms.” — Lewis Hyde, Trickster Makes This World
I wonder how many of the boundaries we face are really the creation of Trickster. I find myself looking at the times I have crossed known boundaries and found myself entangled in a mess, but gained from it so profoundly. Perhaps Trickster does create our world, our thoughts, our illusions of separation from others. I’ve learned to respect the boundaries others create and observe them, but I am always questioning my own, wondering if they are something I still need or is it time to erase them, change the lines, move them around a little or get rid of them completely.
I guess I’ve absorbed enough of the Trickster to keep my personal growth constantly moving, and now find myself pressing once again on the boundaries around me. And I wonder where Trickster will next show up in my own life….
Hubby is back from the Game Developer’s Conference in San Francisco – and I got presents! Yay! This dragon headed turtle is one of them, along with some yummy Teuscher’s chocolates and a nice hat and scarf from the Scottish store.
Dragon headed turtles are a Feng Shui charm:
The Dragon Headed Turtle brings with it the ancient secrets that can protect a home from negative energies.
The Dragon symbolizes luck, the turtle long life and the baby turtle is a symbol of new beginnings. The Dragon Headed Turtle (Tortoise, Terrapin,) is the symbol of longevity in your home, especially for the head of the house. The dragon headed turtle is also a powerful symbol of wealth, health, prosperity and protection.
Legend has it that the turtle has within his body the secret of heaven and earth and the design of his shell shows the magic square, which is the guide for life.
This beautiful dragon headed turtle can be used to improve relationships by placing a piece of red ribbon in his mouth, to attract wealth use golden ribbon.
If you are having Health problems place a piece of blue ribbon in his mouth.
To increase his strength place him in the North of your lounge or office or place him behind you when you are sitting at your desk to give you support.
To increase your success or improve your options place one inside your front door on a table, in the evening turn him round to face the interior.
Never place him in the kitchen or bathroom.
May my creativity be restored
On all levels
In all areas
When the Madwoman is transformed from destructive paths and embodied in creative ways, a woman will not give up her vision. Rid of the resentments, paranoia, and isolation that result when her anger is suppressed or goes unrecognized or unacknowledged, she will be free to create. Her vision will be clear and congruent, and she will have the courage and wisdom to embody it in the world. — Linda Schierse Leonard, Meeting the Madwoman
I am just finishing up reading this book, and if anyone would like to read it, I will be happy to send it along to you. Just leave a comment here and I’ll get in touch with you for a snail mail address.
As a parable of a gifted person, “The Shoemaker and the Elves” is also a parable for artists. Most artists early on find themselves in the position of the shoemaker on the first night — a talent has appeared, but it’s naked, immature. Ahead lie the years of reciprocal labor which precede the release of an accomplished gift. To take a literary example, George Bernard Shaw underwent a typical period of retreat and maturation before he emerged as a writer. The young Shaw started a career in business and felt the threat not of failure but of success. “I made good in spite of myself, and found, to my dismay, that Business, instead of expelling me as the worthless imposted I was, was fastening upon me with no intention of letting go.” He was twentry. “In Marche, 1876, I broke loose,” he says. He left family, friends, business and Ireland. He spent about eight years ‘in absentia’, writing constantly (five novels, published only toward the end of his life — and then with a note by Shaw asking the buyer not to read them). Erik Erikson has commented:
“Potentially creative men like Shaw build the personal fundament of their work during a self-decreed moratorium, during which they often starve themselves, socially, erotically, and, last but not least, nutritionally, in order to let the grosser weeds die out, and make way for the growth of their inner garden. Often, when the weeds are dead, so is the garden. At the decisive moment, however, some make contact with a nutriment specific for theif gifts. For Shaw, of course, this gift was literature.”
For the slow labor of realizing a potential gift the artist must retreat to those Bohemias, halfway between the slums and the library, where life is not counted by the clock and where the talented may be sure they will be ignored until that time, if it ever comes, when their gifts are viable enough to be set free and survive in the world.
IT was terribly cold and nearly dark on the last evening of the old year, and the snow was falling fast. In the cold and the darkness, a poor little girl, with bare head and naked feet, roamed through the streets. It is true she had on a pair of slippers when she left home, but they were not of much use. They were very large, so large, indeed, that they had belonged to her mother, and the poor little creature had lost them in running across the street to avoid two carriages that were rolling along at a terrible rate. One of the slippers she could not find, and a boy seized upon the other and ran away with it, saying that he could use it as a cradle, when he had children of his own. So the little girl went on with her little naked feet, which were quite red and blue with the cold. In an old apron she carried a number of matches, and had a bundle of them in her hands. No one had bought anything of her the whole day, nor had anyone given her even a penny. Shivering with cold and hunger, she crept along; poor little child, she looked the picture of misery. The snowflakes fell on her long, fair hair, which hung in curls on her shoulders, but she regarded them not.
Lights were shining from every window, and there was a savory smell of roast goose, for it was New-year’s eve—yes, she remembered that. In a corner, between two houses, one of which projected beyond the other, she sank down and huddled herself together. She had drawn her little feet under her, but she could not keep off the cold; and she dared not go home, for she had sold no matches, and could not take home even a penny of money. Her father would certainly beat her; besides, it was almost as cold at home as here, for they had only the roof to cover them, through which the wind howled, although the largest holes had been stopped up with straw and rags. Her little hands were almost frozen with the cold. Ah! perhaps a burning match might be some good, if she could draw it from the bundle and strike it against the wall, just to warm her fingers. She drew one out—“scratch!” how it sputtered as it burnt! It gave a warm, bright light, like a little candle, as she held her hand over it. It was really a wonderful light. It seemed to the little girl that she was sitting by a large iron stove, with polished brass feet and a brass ornament. How the fire burned! and seemed so beautifully warm that the child stretched out her feet as if to warm them, when, lo! the flame of the match went out, the stove vanished, and she had only the remains of the half-burnt match in her hand….
Artist: Basko Tamara, 14 years old, the pupil of the children’s art school of P.I.Chaykovskiy. Title – picture: The little Match Girl
The Heart and Soul Nebulae. © CalTech/Palomar
It’s so cool when people get it…..
no one has it figured out…we are all working on whatever it is we are working on. everyday. I think Dreams can be realized but never quite be completely fulfilled because the moment we are almost there we Dream a new Dream. That is the beauty of life! I think frustration and unhappiness is believing there is one true way and that eventually you figure it out, eventually you win the race, get the prize.
I believe happiness is reveling in the beauty of the truth that the journey really is the destination.
Off to make some art for a few days. I may post if I get a chance since I’ll have my laptop with me, but if not, have a great weekend!