I live in an area that used to be known as Ruxley Park Estate on the edge of downland in Hampshire, England. Two hundred years ago Jane Austin lived and walked across the same fields as I. I touch the yew tree she knew well and pause on the stone floor she offered her prayers, pain, and hope each day.
Sense: the passing of something from outside to within that moves me to perceive, feel.
Sensibility: an intense sensitivity towards another, a place, or experience.
In common with every human, I make. I make when awake and when asleep. At times I am conscious of my making, and at others my making happens so spontaneously I am unaware of the process.
As I imagine, I make known to myself. As I form ideas and make known, I talk. All talking is making.
When I purposely make, I am creative. Most people are creative. Those who dedicate their energy creatively, often identify themselves as artists. I prefer that artists are known as those who make art.
I make mistakes. I am flawed. Much of how I act is as a result of the care of others and good fortune.
If I injure another by taking what is theirs: their possession, their dignity, their love, their life, I should face a consequence for my action, the most serious being the loss of my liberty. The Right to Compassion precludes my taking another person's life, no matter how abhorrent their action.
Forgiveness is only given by those with courage and strength to free themselves from pain.
William Shakespeare
A place where one fresh thought is presented every day.
Think This Today is the creation of Mike de Sousa, an artist, writer, and composer.