the road goes ever on...

and on, down from the door where it began. now far ahead the road has gone, and i must follow it if i can, pursuing it with eager feet, until it joins a larger way where many paths and errands meet. and whither then? i can not say...

sometimes truth is hard to write down in a scholarly fashion... or explain in a book when you wish people could see what you see or feel how you feel and there is so much you could never explain sometimes it has to come out in art... you have to paint it or draw it or build something so that people can see whats inside of you and how it looks as it makes its way out. i feel the need to create there is too much trapped inside.