Poet and novelist Margaret Atwood on the universal nature of writing:

“Everyone writes in a way; that is, each person has a “story,” a personal narrative which is constantly being replayed, revised, taken apart, and put together again. The significant points in this narrative change as a person ages—what may have been tragedy at twenty is seen as comedy or nostalgia at forty. All children write. (And paint, and sing.) I suppose the real question is why do so many people give it up?”

I don’t think we do. I think a lot of us just change mediums.

When we were dating, I commented to my husband that I don’t “do” art. I just enjoy it and collect a little. He said he thinks my home and garden is my art. I can get behind that.

There was a Georgia O’Keefe exhibition at Reynolda House a few years ago that was absolutely stunning. In addition to paintings by her, there were photos of her and several pieces of her clothing that she had made for herself before off-the-rack became the standard for how we dress ourselves. Those functional objects were also beautiful. And there’s a lot to be said for creating the life you want. For making things just so because that’s what makes your heart sing. (See also the clothes of Frida Kahlo.)