The truly creative mind is inhumanly sensitive.
To her a touch is a blow, a misfortune is a tragedy,
a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, and failure is death.
Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity
to create, create, create so that without the creating of music, poetry or books
her very breath is cut off from her.
She must create, must pour out creation.
By some strange, unknown, inward urgency she is not really alive
unless she is creating.
Hello PS
A welcome to you on your return to WDC after a long time. I am sure you see a huge difference in the site, all for the better? Have fun with your creativity and may you find the more welcoming. Enjoy!
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