The work of art which I do not make, none other will ever make.
I have this quote painted on the wall of my art studio, and remind my students, young and old, to think about this.
I am teaching in three dementia areas of a long term care facility nearby. I knew I'd like it a lot after helping care for my dad during his illness, and from many visits to my grandmother (the one who liked paper) who lived in one for ten years. Maybe it's the in and out of (consciousness) unexpectedly that pleases me, off in daydream world whenever it's pleasing. Why be so serious all the time? Why not live in a creative imagination?.