In so short a space, all this life. The Three Sisters garden, the corn, the squash, the beans, the pumpkins and cucumbers, the Sunflowers and flowers. The swamp birch tree, growing and rooting. The sheep grazing by the fence, the mist covering the pasture.
All this life, right in front of me, right there, so rich.
For me, inspiration comes from the heart and soul of a good person.
From color and light.
From the love of a daughter.
From the love of a friend.
From the love of a dog.
From the words I write,
and the photos I take,
and the books I read,
and the yearnings of people,
and the simple beauty of
the animal soul.
And perhaps most of all,
from the love of a lover, a partner, a friend.
We alone among all of the creatures of the world seek inspiration
in our work and lives.
We alone can wish to be better,
even if we cannot always be better.
Inspiration comes from life,
from death,
From wanting to create,
From wanting to help,
From the search for the good side of life,
For the search for the bright side,
for community, for caring, for helping.
Inspiration comes from helping the poor,
or the troubled, from the power of encouragement and patience.
From the glory of authenticity and the search for truth.
Every day, I resolve to be better than i was the day before, and
in all those years, I have not moved so much as I can,
or as I might.
I will never quit on that.
That’s where my inspiration comes from.
