New morning to keep on in.
I'm fascinated by the will to create, to write, to bring forth art.
So many songs sung by artists who compose them or cover them, fine musicians who ply the cafés, bistros, local scenes, side stages, online video outlets. Poets who publish their own chapbooks or in web literary magazines or just read in local settings. Storytellers who dramatize wherever some may listen. Visual artists and sculptors who may find a gallery, but if not, still persist and show in open markets. Actors, playwrights, dancers who use the streets or may find a stage. Craft people who find niches everywhere to display what they do. I imagine the profusion of those working and am awestruck.
This very moment even.
And I love to create, to write, to film at times, to photograph, to publish as well, so it goes on. The agony, the discovery, the journey, the connection with something within from which comes form and content influenced by what the senses have discovered exterior to me. That inexplicable will to shape something new.