“An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress...”
W.B.Yeats, Sailing to Byzantium
This year I’ve let flow a passion I didn’t know I had. I began the year painting in Mexico and have followed art around corners and up hills, as it leapt over canyons and was carried by driving winds. I began writing again and deep inside the juicy fluids of life ebb and flow and a loving parent nods and cheers me on.
Baruch ata adonai thank you for this year of art. Help me to believe in myself and know that age isn’t an obstacle but a time for the expression of truth and power unleashed. Amen
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