Why do artists often feel like misfits, oddballs, wanderers? Could it be that we have forgotten that we belong in the borderlands, living a life filled with an inner flame, as poet Carl Sandburg said, that "the fireborn are at home in fire?"
Why do artists often feel like misfits, oddballs, wanderers? Could it be that we have forgotten that we belong in the borderlands, living a life filled with an inner flame, as poet Carl Sandburg said, that "the fireborn are at home in fire?"