One of the disconnects of our language is the confusion between enjoying a vacation, the somnambulistic, disconnected, drunken haze of lying on the beach, and enjoying your art, the sometimes frightening, grueling, high-stakes work of making a difference. No one wonders why successful musicians keep touring or successful authors keep writing even after they have no need to make a living. We don’t wonder because we understand and envy the joy that comes from performing what you love, the satisfaction that comes from making art instead of following instructions.
