I’ve been thinking recently about what it is that beauty even means to me, the vastness of this single word: beauty.
We become committed to this concept that the only way to live our life is our way; and that our way is perfect even if other people can’t see it.
It’s these darkened parts of me that I tuck away, so that no one will see… The parts that are worn and rusted, peeling away showing the ugliness underneath — the less than pretty parts of me.
Compassion is the radicalness of our time.
Great things can be achieved by those who are tiny and the bigger bullies in their negative mind states can never catch up with an energy that is lighter and brighter than theirs.
As artists and story-weavers, one of writers’ roles is to embody the most fundamental and (aside from love) most valuable human expression — creativity.
It’s amazing to me that this happens every day; moving from darkness to light marks our dawn, and our return to dusk.