When the flush of a newborn sun fell first on Eden’s green and gold, Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mold; And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart, Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves: “It’s pretty, but is it Art?”
— Rudyard Kipling, The Conundrum of the Workshops
When my children were small, I loved to watch them draw; minds and bodies completely focused on the magic unfolding before them. My daughter, especially, would often pause after adding a new line to a drawing, her face beaming with overwhelming joy. She heard no whispering behind the leaves.
I keep a picture (above) that she did many years ago on the wall in my shop. It is a reminder to revel in the creative experience. Savor the moment and the joy. Listen to the music of the gouge slicing through the wood, deaf to devilish questions.