Forecasted incidentals. I am always arriving, but I know not the destination
But maybe that is the point? If there is one, surely it must be that.
The destination is unknown, and I am in the business of making a map And if I don’t know where I’m going, then I’m never truly lost or found
And these words sound silly the more I speak them out loud… But I’m glad you’re here.
I wanted to share this with you I wanted to build a sculpture for you out of my thoughts, and then compare our sketches of it
And then, if you don’t mind, I wanted to sit and talk with you awhile.
And ask you what it is to breathe, And what it feels like to create, And what it means to be.
And if we could only breathe life into our creations, I would ask them the same things.