Living Creatively

There's something about a white canvas that seems to say, "I defy you to make the first stroke." Our brush dipped in pigment hesitates as we contemplate the awful thing we are about to do— a line that will live forever or an artless wiggle that will have to be rubbed out.

Sometimes in the morning our day stares at us with the same defiance. As we contemplate the possibilities of each day we live, we may feel hesitant about our moves. Will our words, our steps, our commands, our responses, our expressions of affection be strong, clear strokes of color, form, design, perspective, all forwarding a purpose? Or will they be uncertain, pointless, artless moves indicating mere existence without a creator?

May 13, 1967
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