This illusion, or reflection over the human character and nature we call art, can either awaken or slumber, dear Vaishali.

And the artist is at the mercy of the capprice of its audience.

But the reception of our work, has nothing to do with its perceive quality, I'm afraid. That I noticed after I publiushed the short poem I sent you the other day inspired in you work and Shringi's, which got more claps, and without trying to descredit my work, I believe yours was so much more deep and superior, and there it is, our work, at the merci of the algorythm, our loved ones, our audiences.

It was a sobering moment for me, this realization.

And with it came the realization that we are artists, and we do what we do because it is in us and we have the need, and we know nothing of the tides of time, all we have is this urge, to create, to write, to sing, to embody other men and women, to dance. Regardless of godfathers or not. And we see, we know how the world works. Nevertheless, in the Universe we live.

Thank you for writing, Vaishali. Your art inspires me.

PP