We bury ourselves in the petty, the details, the business end of everything. Is this necessary? No doubt, but it is not the essence of life, of action in this world… Busyness, the myriad of projects without projectuality: the magazines, the pamphlets, the papers…without the willful creation of life and interactions with passion and intensity—this is not life. But willful creation is dangerous; the passions surge beyond that which one had expected; they become monstrous and mad, drunk with themselves or with a beloved. I have quite intentionally developed attractions into passions, wanting intensity and fire in particular relationships. But this can grow far beyond one’s expectations…to the maddest of mad loves, to an obsession that devours much of one’s mind. When this happens it is not possible for one’s other projects to be untouched by this passion. How could anyone imagine that the more mundane projects could go on without facing such a tempest and dealing with it? Are real lives so easily compartmentalized? It does not work this way—not among those who are seeking to be the creators of their own lives. Here life becomes a unity, each facet a reflection of the creator in conjunction with those with whom she chooses to create. This is not an easy way by any means. But then those who want ease don’t choose to be revolutionaries. They choose to keep their passions reined in, well domesticated, mere sentiments defined for them by Hallmark cards and family albums.