Dying doesn't end anything - it just changes where you are

You can't stand up to the night until you understand what's hiding in its shadows.

Can you remember how you felt when you were communicating through your artwork? Not just the sense of completion, but the sense of rightness- the sense that you had brought to life something that could live beyond your sphere of being, that held in it far more potential than you ever realized you were imbuing in the work?

It reminded me of that tongue-in-cheek quick history of art I'd overheard...Used to be people couldn't draw very well, then they could, and now they can't again.

Even, she thought, even without the gift of witchsight, there was more beauty to be found in the world than could ever be snared in language or music. And with the sight.

It's not something you can prove....I know you hate to hear this, but you either have it, or you don't.

If you're not ready to die, then how can you live?