*Typing*

Without fig wasps, there are no figs. Fig wasps enter into the flowers on a fig tree to lay their eggs; and in doing so, they pollinate the flowers. Monkeys, birds, fruit bats and the like then eat the the figs like candy. Figs are a laxative so these animals shit all over the ground, which supplies the soil with dense nutrients as well as seeds to grow more fig trees. This is called interconnectedness. The Naturalist John Muir wrote that, "When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe." Being that we are a part of nature, we aren't exempt from the laws of interconnectedness. When we are considering removing or adding something in our lives and our work, we must also consider the impact of that something on the broader ecosystem. Not just our physical ecosystem but our mental and emotional ecosystem as well.

When we think of passion, we think of love. But, passion is something far more beautiful than love. Passion is loving something so deeply, that you're willing to endure a tremendous amount of suffering in the name of that something. Passion stems from the Latin word Pati, which quite literally means "to endure" or "to suffer". In biblical texts, Christ's dying days nailed to the cross are described as The Passion. You don't have to be Christian to understand the gravity of those particular words in that particular situation. When you view passion through the lens of suffering, you realize that finding your passion is less about finding something you love; and instead finding something you're willing to suffer for.

It's difficult to sit still when you're busy because, well, you're busy. You've got a long list of stuff you should be doing and it's impossible to do this stuff when you're sitting still. So, we don't still. Instead, we stay busy until we die. We create busyness to distract ourselves from our higher calling. Unchecked, this compounds into a life abundant in busyness but scarce in purpose. By sitting still for just ten minutes, at the busiest point in your day, it allows you to slow yourself down long enough to remind yourself of why you are here. Suddenly, all those items that might seem so pressing, fall away like sheets of ice atop a slanted roof amid an exceptionally sunny winter's day.

I was having drinks with a comedian last night at a dive bar in the Lower Eastside. Every so often, the bartenders would cook up a mess of fries and then pass them out for free with little packets of ketchup. As we picked away at our basket of fries, the comedian described to me the difference between popular art and original art. He likened popular art to Wendy's and original art to The French Laundry. As an artist, you have to decide what art you're creating. If you're creating The French Laundry, don't complain when you're not receiving the same kind of attention as Wendy's. If you're creating Wendy's, don't whine when you're not as respected as The French Laundry.

At times, we will be confronted with a force that is far greater than our own. We are expected to fight until the very end; to not submit. But, is submission not grace under pressure? If the knee does not bed, the leg will break.