Some babies are born with broken hearts. If they never heal we refer to those individuals as "artists." It's not a good thing. Oh, it can be. We got Elvis in the deal. Thomas Wolfe, Sylvia Plath, James Dean, Ray Charles, Dorothy Parker. It's not a bad thing either, of course. They don't all grow up as geniuses.
Let me tell you this: if you're born to the caste, you can go to work for the bank; you can marry the boss' daughter; you can take a degree in law. Buddy, you're still an artist.
Don't waste your time on landscapes, hit records or big career moves. Zero in on love and count your lucky stars. It's where we got "What'd I Say," Starry Night and To Kill A Mockingbird.
Love harder. It's the only legacy that matters.
No comments:
Post a Comment