I am not a scientist or philosopher. I have not exhausted the depths of scientific discovery or waded into the philosophical postulations of all the “why”s and “how”s of existence and nature and purpose. Nor am I an artist –not in any traditional sense– but I do have a sense of what is communicated in arte. Even bad arta; an expression of one’s self, being, perception, and experience. One of my favorite artists is Bob Dylan. He confuses me and I have discovered why confusion is admirable. He doesn't communicate an answer or direct interpretation of life; but rather, the confusion we all feel about war and love, beauty and pain. Dylan, in many ways, combined a strange string of sounds and words that give a substantive realization to the pain that nurtures the human heart. Beauty is not found in an evasion of life, but rather an embrace of it. Recently, I had been given a bit more struggle than I cared to accept; but, as I was denied any control over my life and accepted th
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