I read this post earlier today and since it resonates with how I have been feeling lately about work, craft and creating something lasting, I decided to post it here: These are the words and the stories I hear in the Brooklyn Bridge: enthusiasm, audacity, impossibility, and amazement. More importantly, I see a work of bare utility with a palpable sense of confidence, an equilibrium with nature, and a beauty that only grows with time. […]
Am I really just a "working stiff" who wants to simply produce something good and well crafted?
I feel like I am wandering around in a fog. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know where I’m going, and for the last few months, I can’t really recall where I’ve been.