Each morning I read some O to the beauty of:
http://www.classicartsshowcase.org/ Today I read:
“The practical is a dream to be followed by an effort to make it come true; the poetic is a dream enjoyed for its own sake. The world for the poet is not material to be used for satisfying wants, it is something to be contemplated. Poets allow the world to form itself around them without any urge to make it different from what it is. Poetic imagination is not a preliminary to doing something, it is an end in itself. It is not “work.” It is “play.”
http://www.firstthings.com/article/2008 ... nd-play-15