The artist is not necessarily one who sculpts the gods, plays a fine series of musical resonances, or paints portraits.
From the beauty of an idea, comes the beauty of its parts, and not the other way round.
Literary fame is generally confined to a small circle of associates. Few writers emerge into public awareness.
Songs often write themselves. Some rise when, in love, a guitar finds the right hands to tend upon its strings.
All of my encounters with Ndebele artwork have been so removed from the people it belongs to.
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