"Life is happening... it means everything."

"Did you ever notice that the sky is all the way to the ground? We’re walking around in it. We’re in the sky. There is sky and there is ground and we’re somewhere in between. That is where we live. And sometimes some of us take wing and when they do, when their feet leave the ground, even for a second, they pull the rest of us with them. And when we rise, and when we rise, and when we notice that the sky has been around us all along. We have been walking into it. It has been this constant collision. Divinity and depravity. And we rise and we rise and we rise..."

I think of you, often, with admiring affectionate envy. No, not envy, but I do truly wish to be as you are. You - you are the artist, the musician, the writer - you make me rise. You take wing, into the skies, and I watch you leave the ground behind and take flight, and find my heart pulled upwards with you. "But the ground pulls at my feet", and it is all I can do to stand up straight as I watch your sunshine silhouette grow smaller and smaller and find my mind elevated by the sight of you flying so high. You - you are the artist, the musician, the writer - you guide the movement of my brush, you sing on my CD's and you live in my library. You make me rise.