Writing – perhaps all art forms – dwell within the habitudes of uncertainty and bewilderment. I enter into the act of creating not knowing if I’ll create anything. A doubt underlies the thought: perhaps I’ve drawn my last drawing already, perhaps I have no more words to write.Continue Reading
My friend Esther frames Vonnegut’s saying differently: do the things that make your soul happy. She and I are quiet for a moment – an oddity for the two of us – and reflect on what her statement means in the context of our conversation. She and I aren’t speaking of a short-term happiness but of a long-term one, one that is rooted in pursuing God and resting in Him.