Be untamed. Be untranslatable.
Celebrate yourself and sing yourself. And while you’re at it, celebrate and sing someone else as well. But don’t forget yourself.
Focus on the things that make you feel most alive and most in love with your life.
Loaf and invite your soul to observe a blade of grass. Pay attention.
Make your art from everything.
Make it from a rain-riddled walk on the beach and from waiting in line at the supermarket. From cookies and compost. From strawberry and salt, from the wine and the vinegar.
Make your art from your childhood (those first lines on your map), your disastrous first love (that sea monster by the left margin), and your heart (the compass rose).
Make art from the sadness that roosts in flocks all around you and the hope for healing that rings a very small bell made of stars.
Make art from everything, and be comforted to know that all you encounter will someday flower in your life which is, of course, the highest form of art after all.
Lift your voice. Live your poem.