In the last few weeks before my 40th birthday, I find myself in the most interesting place I’ve ever been creatively. My view of the world is tempered by a great sense of hope and my own dismal failures. I finally have real pain, memories I want to forget, actions I want to take back, love I gave away and that will never be returned. And while this all might sound negative, writing has always been a joy for me in my struggle – a dependable happiness that is in its way the most beautiful thing in life. Writing is about hardness, coldness and being alone. I am finally in a place where I realize life has paradoxes – it has a lot of them. I’ve got to live with them. And so do you. What’s beautiful around us can only stand out when there’s some hurt.