I am feeling better today, though still a little sick. It was a so-so Wednesday. It's been raining for weeks straight, a couple of days ago the sun appeared briefly -- I can't wait for the spring. I'm one of those people who need light, color, and warmth only sunshine can provide, maybe I'm addicted to radiation.
I'm trying to finish The Ogre -- nearly there, read quite a lot today.
Is happiness enough? I mean, is it enough to be happy?
Is wisdom directly proportionate to sorrow? Is sorrow an integral part of wisdom? Knowledge? Are those two synonymous? Can an artist really do anything worthwhile (by worthwhile, I mean monumental art that mirrors the world, Ulysses or War and Peace) if they do not hold some strong belief in something? In Art. In humanity. In God. In original sin. In existential existence. In science. In love. In women. In death. In something that provides a core for their work.
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