Love letter.

The people I love are the ones who create. On their own time, on their own dime, because this is the way they know how to live. It is the way they make sense of the world, and the way in which they can hear their own voices. They’re the people who create because it feels like inhaling and exhaling, because to stop doing it, to ignore the call, the compulsion, would mean death. They’re the people who put on the show, write the short story, knit the sweater, burn their fingers with the glue gun, dig the fire pit, build the treehouse, practice alone and late into the night.

Those people.

Are you one of them?

You.

You’re really quite wonderful.