Brick by Brick

There is something elastic about time when it comes to making art or writing a book. We enter into the dream world where the concept of time and space no longer holds relevance. We are under the enchantment of creativity. And when we finally look up, we've created something that never existed before--something that lives and breathes outside of us. And in the words of Bob Dylan, it feels as if it was made by ghosts.

And then, we leave the room where the art is made. The doors close and we return to the real world. Sometimes we wonder if this enchanted thing will still be there for us when we return in the morn.

Yesterday I took a break from my work to talk to Rick, our mason who is rebuilding the chimney in our house. He stood before his pile of two hundred year old bricks and told me that these are the best of times and the worst of times. And then, we discussed books, but the fact that this brick mason is a fan of Charles Dickens warmed my heart. And I took it as a sign that what I am doing--this art-making thing--is worth while no matter what the times might bring us. It was a grounding moment. A reality check, as if the universe was giving me a lesson in zen. chop wood. carry water.

Creative Friends--it's true. These are the best of times and the worst of times. The only thing you can do is lay your bricks. Brick by brick.

Love,

Jamie