We sit silently and watch the world around us. This has taken us a lifetime to learn. It seems the old are more able to sit next to one another and not say anything and still feel content. The young are more impatient and usually break the silence. It is a waste; for silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking. This is a great paradox.
With the word creative we stand under a mystery. And from time to time that mystery, as if it were a sun, sends down upon one head or another, a sudden shaft of light—by grace, one feels, rather than deserving, for it always is something given, free, unsought, unexpected. It is useless, possibly even profane, to ask for an explanation.