I make most when in love or with the hope of love.
I make for one, or many. For someone to love, or for all to love.
Making for one is far easier than making for many. For one, the creative process flows like a force of nature. For many, the creative journey is more abstract, principled, altruistic.
Making something is only half the story. Stories are only complete when read.
I make to express my love, as a means to change, and to return to the ideas and experiences I find most important and powerful. Most often my work does not retain the strength I felt during its making.
Although my failures weaken my confidence, they do not undermine the reasons for my making.
My hunger to share is as strong now as when I first made as a child. It is not self-belief that sustains me, but love, the necessity of change, and the ideas and experiences of life, its beauty and potential.
Stopping short a life is within my reach as it is for most humans who are not restrained. For many, the willingness to take a life, to kill, is a matter of degree. Most are comfortable taking the life of a flower, a tree, but might pause at the loss of a forest. Many are comfortable for others to take life on their behalf for food: vegetation, fish, cattle. Some will agree to a life taken during or after a serious crime, or in self-defense. Some take life for principle, self-interest, or madness. Some sadly take their own.