Art isn’t making pretty pictures, it is the act of communicating our shared experience, our common sense, and our inherent sentiments, fears, and emotions. It is the ability to make manifest a permanent and inseparable element of our very substance. It is visually representing our very constitution and our essential character. It is making plain that which defies description and that which elicits from us an empathetic response.

Couple art with compassion and life takes on knew purpose and meaning.

In the wake of the destruction of the last couple of days in my area, it seems that taking time to notice the beautiful things about us despite the tragedy is what makes life bearable…perhaps even enjoyable.

The devastation of loosing “everything” is liberating when you realize you are  no longer trapped by the things you own. You are no longer busting your but to provide a fine home for your possession. Relationships with others are what you carry with you, not your possessions.

It is gift really, the ability to “start over”, to shake off that which wasn’t really working anyway. The ability to imagine life as something more important that titles, deeds, and pink slips.

The ability to help the red cross by hosting “Operation BBQ Relief”. To sacrifice your days profits to feed and help those that are working to help the destitute. To be grateful that your BBQ shack is located directly across the street from those who lost their possessions. How fortunate you are to be in a position to help, and the knowledge that you can use your possessions to serve.

The house was gone, but the tire swing remained. The possessions were destroyed, but the joy is still there if you are willing to see it…live it. The calm after the storm is more sweet. The sun shinning on your shoulders more valuable when it was nearly taken from you.

And, when you report to work, despite the —-tornado that ransacked your community, you do it with a smile. Knowing full well, that some of those that you may help today, only have the hamburger in their hands, and the change in their pockets. You have a chance to be the love.

It seems, that my hero’s journey has reached the halfway point. Now the real work must begin.

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