I have to persist. I have to keep asking questions and articulate answers. Until death takes me the other side of the veil, I have to try to think. Better than I used to, clearer, deeper. I need to do a lot of footwork; hours and hours of deliberate practice; I want my thinking as beautiful and as meaningful as music. I want to understand reality, human being, death, suffering, beauty, love, sacrifice, happiness. I have to learn these things, and go beyond learning. And this takes thinking with my heart, with my blood and bowels, with my wounds and infirmities, with my grief, rage, shame, thankfulness, tenderness, wonder, with oil pastels and pencils as much as with my brains. I don't know where it will take me, I do not pretend to be able to answer the questions I ask. I don't even know if I am capable of travelling this way. Maybe it is too late, now. Maybe it doesn't matter. I don't know... But I have to try.
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