arting

If you have faith - something eternal to believe in - then you can know the relief of realizing, as an artist, that you really have nothing new to say. When you acknowledge that your writing, or painting, or dance must merely re-create, in this moment, what has been going on for aeons, you become free to enter into something that is bigger than yourself. You dialog with eternity in a way that does not demand the death of mystery. You become still and small in the before the awesome Bigness.

Strangely, though, it is just this humility that makes your art-making worthwhile. For by humility, you put yourself in right relation to who you really are - an itsy-bitsy speck of dust. Oh, to be a speck of dust AND to matter! Such a thing makes you want to sing! or dance! or paint!