Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
To melt and be like a running brook
That sings its melody to the night.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart
And give thanks for another day of loving.
Kahlil Gibran
The work of art that emerges where we leave the place of interiority and reenter the visible world may be something tangible or it may take the form of a special kind of life, a life that is in itself an art. The sharing or the communication, in whatever form that may take, is the essence of the creative act. But the seed begins to germinate in aloneness and in silence.