"Look out your window and I'll be gone"

"Now it is possible for artists to have and eat that particular cake by adding that, after all, science is in one (rather attenuated) sense "mere" art; art is all there is."

Annie Dillard

"Living by Fiction"

So it is that I find my self here again.  Yet here isn't really "here" now is it?  Things change, you have changed; the sky is a bit bluer than it was last time you sat in this spot and inside you feel it too.  You have moved on, walked out of the picture into a new frame.  Even in the same place you see it different, you notice that dried lief still attached and find the light showing on new places on the bark of the aspens.

For the artist, his life becomes art.

There, you see it?  There is the madness, the ever present threatening chaos, our lives like the kitchen if it isn't clean every day!  And there; there is the peace, the joy, the salvation and hope that though it maybe bad it will not be bad every day unless that is what you want.  But not for me. I like the change.