Art has been for me an attempt at self-completion. Like prayer and visualization, the creative act solidifies and cements into a totem a reasonable facsimile of inner needs, fears, and fantasies. Like other dependencies, it is a purely selfish act. It makes me momentarily feel more secure, self-assured, and safer, seeing documentation and hard evidence of my current interior slide show. Like most dependencies, it also demands constant replenishment and enrichment. The residual result, a leftover cocoon, has no attachment to me. It is now available, independent of me for whatever purpose.