above all else she had to create, and she said - yes
When i was struggling to find the courage to begin calling myself artist - someone read the following extracts to me from 'Letters to a young poet' - by Rainer Maria Rilke.
'You ask if your verses are good. You ask me.'
'You have asked others'
'Nobody can advise and help you, nobody, There is only one single means. Go inside yourself. Discover the motive that bids you write; examine whether it sends its roots down to the deepest places of your heart, confess to yourself whether you would have to die if writing were denied you. This before all: ask yourself in the quietest hour of your night: must I write? Dig down into yourself for a deep answer. And if this should be in the affirmative, if you may meet this solemn question with a strong and simple 'I must', then build your life according to this necessity; your life must, right to its most unimportant and insignificant hour, become a token and a witness of this impulse.'
i had a dream - one night while i was grappling with the word artist. the theme was familiar, 'houses' - except this time i was given the blueprints for the house and told to build it, as i wished. no scary rooms, dark attics or sinister basements this time.