I love man as creator, lover, husband, friend, but man the father I do not trust. I do not believe in man as father. I do not trust man as father.
What I cannot love, I overlook. Is that real friendship?
My trunk, valises and my mind are overpacked.
The self is merely the lens through which we see others and the world.
When others asked the truth of me, I was convinced it was not the truth they wanted, but an illusion they could bear to live with.
Life, religion and art all converge in Bali. They have no word in their language for 'artist' or 'art.' Everyone is an artist.