Aspire ye to ascend unto heaven, prepare first to descend unto hell.

Heaven is truth attained; hell, but truth denied.

Art is personal, autobiographical. One’s heights may not exceed one’s depths, and vice versa. The sublimity of one’s joy cannot surpass the profundity of one’s pain. A life lived vicariously is but invention; a life without passion, devotion, adoration, sacrifice, commitment, obsession, pain, and joy, merely delusion, denied of vigour of creation.

To write, to enthral, to enthuse, to inflame, it is imperative that one’s life is worthy of chronicle.