When I gain pleasure from something and the pleasure ends, I want it to begin again. The pleasure may be of my senses or the mind, of touch, or idea. I easily forget that each moment is unique, and that no matter the intensity of my first experience, the second of the same is tempered by the first.

With art on each return I am enriched. A painting, a piece of music, a poem. Art is not passive, it is active. Like being with someone I love, each moment is an exploration. It is at once the same and new.

The Craft of Art