For our graft to bear fruit,
We throw ourselves wholly into our art,
We seek no reward,
That’s not the point,
We don’t want medals,
But perhaps a verbal salve to the heart,

We all want that pat on the back,
A show of hands from family and colleagues,
Acclaim and recognition,
Perhaps even grand fame,
To be acknowledged,
It’s only human nature,

But I say all of that be secondary,
The best accolades come from within,
The warmth of ones own creative furnace,
The feeling of a job well done,
It’s true that we are our own most vicious critic,
But we ought to be our most fervent devotee.

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