If we are to be shipwrecks in the desert, then let there be storms as well as safe harbours, wind as well as its absence, suns, and moons shaping tideless tides, imagination framing the frameless pictures and silence inviting words aboard and weighing and dropping anchor as shipwrecks in the desert.

Creating is a process that challenges us every step we take — A song? A musical composition? a poem? A drawing? A painting? A sculpture? A film? A video? A Sound Collage? A novel? A short story? A ‘Free Form Prose Piece’? An essay? An article? A blog? A training? A meal? A game? A decision? A journey? A style of life? A style of work?

A Set of unrelated notes toward nothing?

Star-spangled sky, inky blackness pierced with silver glistening dots?

Seasons forever etching the horizon?

A process of creativity creating tangible evidence of the creative process? Why the question marks? Why the whys? Plants have roots, thoughts, and emotions too.

Creating is an answer to unasked questions that well up within, a barely perceptible breeze, coming through an open window, on a night that sees summer slipping into autumn.

Creating is an exit that turns towards entry and vice versa. A scratch that gathers itches together, like a child, gathers stones — drawn to their jaggedness, their smoothness, their sparkle, their mysterious dullness, caked in mud and buried in sand; Some screaming out “pick me! I’ll feel good in your hand!” and others hugging the earth and sand, like when we cross the street to avoid being seen.

Creating takes us into ourselves and out of ourselves. It makes craters in emptiness and we can fill them and reshape them and sometimes just let them remain craters.

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