A new year a blank page pretty blue lines in a moleskin notebook or off white in a spiral bound sketchpad paint brushes that thirst for color paint waiting to be poured ink wanting to bleed pens desperate to carve into pulp feet eager to dance music in the silence of the air dreams to scatter and create and time burning to be spent and life is too short no matter how long we live  and every story starts with but a single word and every word with but a single letter and ever journey a single step so why not sing and dance and write and paint along the way and use your days and nights to live well and to love well and to dream well