In the wake of all of this... we create. We take our rage and pain and confusion and... we create. We paint, we draw, we write, we craft. Something, anything to allow us to rail against those who deconstruct and destroy.
We take the pain of a ruined leg, and build a new one. We see the fallen and we raise a tribute. We find a question and we answer it. To find a better way to do things. We yell our vitriol and disorientation at canvas and screen, page and program and find a way to grow. A way to grow out of the fire, and find a deeper root. A way to inspiration.
Because that's what inspiration is isn't it? A breath. To inspire. To breathe in. To LIVE. To take a breath of hate from someone else and breathe out creativity. To take a breath of hurt from another and breathe out healing. To take a breath of insight from someone and breathe out a construct larger than the idea that spawned it.
So here we go. We're going to take it to the workbench. We're going to set our noses to the grindstone, sharpen our pencils... and create.