Sending our artwork out into the world can be a dicey proposition. We lose control of its fate. Who knows if it will survive or where it will survive. (Maybe it all ends up in the Twiloid Zone. We will likely never know.) To us, once it is gone, it is almost as though it never existed. It resides in us only as a memory — like all other experiences in our life, as a building block to who we have become. Is it more important that we create art or the art life?

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