Have Patience

"Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart...

Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers...

They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them...

It is a question of experiencing everything.

At present you need to live the question.

Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day."

- Rainer Maria Rilke

These pencil sketches were made in Alaska in 1999. They are the basis of a series of paintings inspired by the lives of the Skellig Michael monks. The monks lived on an enormous rock (in the 7th century), nine miles off the west coast of Ireland. They were said to have lived their devoted and austere lives 'on the margin of the world.' The Atlantic ocean.

I often feel I live my life in the margins of the world, loving wilderness, drawn to huge unspoilt swathes of untamed Nature untouched by man.

'Skellig Michael (from Sceilig Mhichíl in the Irish language, meaning Michael's rock), also known as Great Skellig, is a steep rocky island in the Atlantic Ocean about 9 miles (14.5 kilometres) from the coast of County Kerry, Ireland. It is the larger of the two Skellig Islands. After probably being founded in the 7th century, for 600 years the island was a centre of monastic life for Irish Christian monks. The Gaelic monastery, which is situated almost at the summit of the 230-meter-high rock became a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1996. It is one of Europe's better known but least accessible monasteries.'

'Since the extreme remoteness of Skellig Michael has until recently discouraged visitors, the site is exceptionally well preserved. The very spartan conditions inside the monastery illustrate the ascetic lifestyle practiced by early Irish Christians. The monks lived in stone 'beehive' huts (clochans), perched above nearly vertical cliff walls.'

From Wikipedia.

The quote in this blog touches me deeply. At present, as Rilke suggest, 'I am living the question.'
What's happened to my screenplay?
Why can't I write it? What's stopping me?

'Perhaps...,'Rike's voice whispers in my heart, 'you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day."

I hope not too distant.

It's time to start thinking about the next fund raiser for Peru. Our fourth Chocolatada.
Can I do both, organize a fund raiser, and write a screen play?