If I were to begin life again, I should want it as it was. I would only open my eyes a little more...
~ Jules Renard in THE JOURNAL OF JULES RENARD
With the word creative we stand under a mystery. And from time to time that mystery, as if it were a sun, sends down upon one head or another, a sudden shaft of light—by grace, one feels, rather than deserving, for it always is something given, free, unsought, unexpected. It is useless, possibly even profane, to ask for an explanation.