Migrant cultures often wear their art as adornment in textiles, leather, and jewelery of silver, gold, and precious stones; or display it in the adornment of their beasts of burden, their horses, camels, and elephants; or carry it with them in the temporary dwellings they install and dismantle from place to place to place, complete with the special bags of cotton, wool, and leather, and the boxes of wood, carved and inlaid, containing the essentials and the treasures of their travels.
Those who migrate also carry their stories in oral tradition, their journals and diaries, their poetry, their books of devotion.
Certainly, those who choose not to settle down, need not forfeit the artful life. For them, in fact, their very lives are a mix of art and artifice.
There are only two tragedies in life – not getting want you want in life, and getting it.
A writer needs three things – silence, exile, cunning. A poet needs these, and obsession.