The Resistance And The Degree

Sometimes It Seems To Stand Still. Like You’re In A Bag And You Can’t Get Out And Somebody’s Always Telling You That It Will Get Better With Time And Time Just Seems To Stand Still And Laugh At You And Your Pain.

If Love Is What I've Experienced, I Can't Separate It From Other People. I Can't Separate Creation, And I Can't Separate Whatever This Creative Thing Is, From It's Creation. I Don't Believe That Can Be Done. We're All Part Of This Creative Force.

It Seems To Me That What The Artist Sees Is The Simple And Obvious That Is Invisible To Everybody Else.

I Don't Know That I Could Really Define Love. I Can't . . . Again, It's Like Trying To Define What This Creative Force Is. It's Beyond My Ability To Really Define. If I Can Define It, Then It's Not It. We're Right Back To That Thing Again.

However They May Have Felt When They Left They Were Now Committed, They Had Passed The Point Of No Return.