Artists create for themselves, before anyone else. We create to save ourselves, to (try*) to understand and order the (apparent) chaos, to elevate ourselves above the common, and often cruel, dust of the days and the nights that pass through us, cutting until we´re forced to choose between humanity and premature death.
As I jump between my dance career, the one which pays the bills, and my writing (3rd volume of my new book growing as we speak), I remind myself the focus should be in enjoying the journey towards the goal.
As a dancer and a teacher, I´m used to have an audience, and its immediate feed.back, to what I do. Nonetheless, this writing marathon I put myself into is a lonely ride with no audience, no feed-back, no applause and no guarantee of an answer, much less success.
A couple of days I asked myself: if you knew nobody, except you, would read this book, would you still write it? The answer was a round, passionate, unshakeable YES. That´s when I realized this was not a book but Love and love has no reason, no goal, no ambition.It asks nothing in return – it accepts, and embraces life in its purest form: feeling, tasting, smelling, dwelling in the Mystery.
When love is not madness, it is not love.
Pedro Calderon de la Barca