In order to thrive as artists we need to be available to the universal flow. When we put a stopper on our capacity for joy by anorectically declining the small gifts of life, we turn aside the larger gifts as well.

I think of making love and making art as being very parallel. Even the most amateur attempt can be thrilling.

If you think of the universe as a vast electrical sea in which you are immersed and from which you are formed, opening to your creativity changes you from something bobbing in that sea to a more fully functioning, more conscious, more cooperative part of that ecosystem.

Nothing dies harder than a bad idea. And few ideas are worse than the ones we have about art.

As artists, we must learn to be self-nourishing. We must become alert enough to consciously replenish our creative resources as we draw on them.

When writing becomes too dominant, it gets leached of its own power. We spend more and more time writing and we have less and less to write about.

Money cannot fill an empty soul.