The autotelic dream-weaver breathed and burnt with his work. More than just woolgathering, putting earnest efforts, doing it with complete Meraki. Frequent meeting with new visitors who didn’t speak or understand his language thus failed to appreciate it, was a devastating blow which made him isolophilic. Sequacious people, normally trotting something out, do more harm than any good. The sang-froid was slipping through his fingers accompanied with a growing overwhelming desire to run away which was slowly turning him into a rantipole. He perpetually felt like a fish out of water.
While looking for nepenthe, a place elysian a sudden epiphany brought this realization. He didn’t have to lose his unique gifts! Those who brought him down were already far behind him. An aesthete artist, endowed with beautiful thinking and yugen, he didn’t look for ugliness in others like them and soon he found the querencia. He kept on creating his own heaven to inspire many others. Refusing to fall at lower levels he weaved his dreams using wabi-sabi, the art he had mastered. And here you are awestruck at the sight of a selcouth, flawsome, beamish artist who baltered, basking in his own fragrance! Free from stress and sadness, crooning and whistling. He was a belle-âme who contrived to create artists. More than just humans.
Photo credit: librarything.com