When he is lost, he reaches beyond himself, and grasps the wings of what he cannot know. Sometimes he is lifted by this greater source. In reality, he knows that no matter how great his skill and experience, he ultimately must rely on ability greater than he possesses. 

His most recent efforts seem lifelike. He dreams that his creation is alive. Not only alive, but perfect in ways that suggest to him perfection of thought and feeling, the embodiment of perfect being. He loves the implications of the forms he has created. 

He constantly refines proportions as his ideas and feelings are pushed to new levels. He brings all the skill he has to bear on the work. If his need were not so great, where would he find the strength, the skill, the endurance?
 

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