It is a great tragedy for the seeds of creativity that lay within to never be planted into fertile soil to sprout and blossom into the beautiful marvels they are capable of becoming.

There are many who become seed collectors, “ooo-ing” and “ah-ing” at the varieties of different seeds they’ve gathered, but who never care to plant them — relishing in the imagined product of what they could become, instead of tending to the work required to make it such.

There are many who plant as many seeds as possible, feverishly, in a manic excitement of what they would become, but water it once, forgetting to return to the plants, thus allowing them to wither. They gather a series of pots with dead flowers and plants, each one a testament to their refusal to diligently tend to their potential creations.

There are many who never bother to check if they have any seeds at all, living perhaps in vicarious enjoyment of those who have sprouted great, marvelous plants, but never supposing that they, too, could do so themselves.

I strive to be of the rare few, who not only accumulate precious, valuable seeds, but remain committed to their blossoming over time — balancing, unifying, and harmonizing creative vision with practical work.