“Brother, ring in the hours with action for life is fleeting so ensure that you live it well. Tell yourself that you are alive. Ars longa, vita brevia. London is now ashes. Who really puts those lines down, anyway? Who inspires them but the living? Do something with your life! Do not rest with the energy that God gave you. When I see Degas I see Absinthe and dancers; I see the delicacy of living, the feminine, the common, and I see an ‘individuals’ work in progress… I could go on (and should to clarify, but I won’t). And this is great and everything — creating the art, living the depiction of his subjects — but the burning. Where is the burning? It has gone with the action. I long for what you do because the embers still burn within you. You have a fire. Keep that fire. Drink? No, if I am serious with myself, and with you in this letter, I know a drink would not do. This is not the time for celebration but for work. It is the suffering I long for. The world is filled with beautiful girls and guys and its particular social strata. Big cities are a hub for individualism, consumerism, worthy pursuits for sure, but mostly half measures…This is the most Spartan time of my life. I have food. I can pay the bills somewhat but I can live honestly. Why worry?” indeed. But the feeling comes alive only as I realize the single purpose of living for me is to move towards God’s glory. Anything apart from moving in that direction absolutely argus-eyed is destructive and silly anyway it’s looked at. Life is tough but life is good because I feel pain and this is the way to go. Feel the pain. Move with life and vigor until your feet stop moving and cold possesses your body, and the lights exit your eyes. Hold onto the exhale for as long as you can. Far as I can tell this is the path. I know how you are doing, and there you go, now you know how I am. Take care old friend. My thoughts are with you and my prayers go out. Let your spirit be alive.”~your brother M M.
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