There is a twilight between sleep and wakefulness, a grey dawn where the lingering remains of dreams reside. If you catch hold of the thoughts that begin to stir and flit about like the early rising sparrow that flicks its wings and skips about, the first movement on a crisp fall morning, if, when you find yourself in this twilight world, you manage to coax the thoughts that rise like wisps of fog that are slowly rising and melting away to come to rest in your hand, you are sometimes privileged to catch a glimpse of the deepest part of your mind. The ideas that you manage to catch hold of are some of the most real, sincere and profound ideas that you will ever encounter.
As an artist it does no good to live in a stupor, crashing into the realm of sleep when exhaustion overcomes, then blundering out of it when the night is over, too muddied and disgruntled at daylight to live well in this brief moment of life. It is for the artist to live one the edge, living completely and abundantly, even in the twilight between the black and the light of a new morning.
