A loved one is more golden than philosopher Ayn Rand, but profoundly spiritual and communicating through poetry, not story.  He already has many fans and has just started on a social media platform.  His poems break me into deep sobs as tears gush out of my soul.  He wrote a poem about war and suggested a song to complement it.  When I read the poem and heard the song, my heart ripped to shreds, and I felt the world’s pain burn in my soul.  It’s hard enough for me to listen to a sad song without going through trauma, so this song was a significant thrust into an emotional eclipse.  I knew I had to take the poem and turn it into a video, apply for funding, and submit it to a Banff Centre art installment.  I don’t have an art degree, but I have a master’s degree in communications, and I check off multiple boxes for diversity, which may qualify me for funding.  Art is one way to change the world.

I’m not one to write a book, although I wrote one and it didn’t sell, but making video or multimedia displays speaks to my soul.  I will approach the Machiavelli’s Sister book project, the treatise on a loving rather than a Machiavellian perspective on leadership, as a documentary film project instead of a book.  But if something a loved one writes causes my soul to burst into an outpouring of love, I know it’s a calling, too.

I may hear back about funding for this year’s documentary proposal, which came from a broken heart when two family members cut off communications with me.  When I listen to the documentary I started producing, it’s moving, but finishing it is difficult, as I’m in a happy state now, and the documentary is heartbreaking.  But in that documentary, I have a message for academia about unconditional love I need to put out in the world.

As for The Voice Magazine, I see all the outstanding students interviewed in this magazine, and they and each of us reading this are a fantastic creation, complete with a mission in life, each one of us the most beautiful, magnificent being to behold.  And it just tears me apart that our lovely Jewish students, in all their magnificence and infinite beauty, are being persecuted.  The poem my loved one wrote touches on this topic and how a real solution would take a mere couple of hours to implement if guided by the hands of love.  And then I feel all the things I have done wrong in life.  My soul cries out to give unconditional love to every being, as we are all infinite beauty, as stunning as each of these students interviewed, and as monumental as all communities, all people, all living entities.  This world is meant for mercy, forgiveness, and love, not hatred, persecution, and destruction.

We all have missions and roles.  I wonder if some of our missions are just to be loved, such as the baby who dies prematurely or the person lying against a building with glazed eyes, wide open, body frozen, a shopping cart filled with treasures from someone’s garbage bin, spurring us to slide our last five-dollar bill into his bag of cans.  This impoverished, beautiful soul makes us think, feel, love, and nurture.  And what better way to express that experience of unconditional love than through a creative outlet, such as writing, art, or filmmaking?