I built my life, with great sacrifice and dedication, in a field of so much pain, yet many want to take it from me. My compositions, mypaintings, my music and my art. But I know they’re wrong. They sometimes treat me as if my life was a game. This is sick, I remind myself, and can’t let my life be moved this way. In my mind I find the forest, a place to take a respite, a place for more dreams to take hold, yet I wonder, if my truth is my own, I assure you, I will always make art, and music, someday when I’m ready, I will make art again. I know the truth of my art, it comes from my heart, my mind, what I give in dedication, to the dreams around me, the realities, which only I truly know as my own. May we all have a space to live, a space to dream, our own world to understand. And maybe then, at the borders of our invisible precipices, we will meet each other, all of us, in unison, to make our voices stronger, because we each know ourselves. For as the Buddha taught “A man who conquers himself is greater than one who conquers a thousand men in battle”.