I find myself in a quiet kind of awe, watching the synchronicity of life play out.

I feel myself part of it, intimately woven in, yet not the director of this show. Not in the way I once believed I was.

The happiness paradox

So I will do my best here today knowing my words will fail miserably to tell the truth. But hopefully someday, someone who reads this, will already be looking in the directions I am pointing. And hopefully they will adjust their eyes ever so slightly, adjust their focus ever so sweetly, tilt their head so their ears catch the waves, and lift their hands into the breeze so as to catch a glimmer of the beauty I am pointing too. Far off in the distance yet ever, ever, ever so close.

There is a moment when all the strategies fall quiet. When self-improvement exhausts itself. When the question becomes simple, more direct and more honest.

What is true, right here?

Every person has a uniquely individual way of seeing the world. An intimately personal way of perceiving and constructing reality. Making great art is about exploring the expression of this intimacy.