Bead Journal Completed June (2009)

My Symphony

"In my next life, I'm going to..."

Oh, how many times have I answered this statement. And similarly, this question:

"What would you choose to do in your next life...?"

How many times have I asked this question of Jim or Jack or my friends??

Answering the question is a way of identifying hidden dreams, of uncovering latent desires, of creating a fantasy story for ourselves or for those we care about. I'd be shocked if you've never thought about it yourself.

Granted, I am pretty happy with the talents and skills God gave me. But, boy oh boy, in my next life I would LOVE to come back as Patti LaBelle or Aretha Franklin -- stand up on stage in front of thousands of singing fans, and belt out a R-E-S-P-E-C-T like there's no tomorrow!


Using all ranges of my unbelievable voice, up and down the scale, no holding back...letting my voice belt out all that is beautiful and good. Maybe this is why gospel music and spirituals have always appealed to me. That deep, soulful singing that comes from the very core of your being...*gulp

OK. Back to reality. I can sing OK...not great.

I mean, I'm probably good enough to be in the back row of our local church choir. And maybe, one day I might join that group when I have more time to commit to it. For now, I have to settle for sitting in the front left side of the church where the choir sits and the music is loud and they drown out my singing when I belt it out! Once, I sat in the back of church because we were late...I was so out of place. There are very few singers in the back of church and the ones who are singing...are definitely not belting it out. More like mumbling and humming. This bird was very out of place back there so I haven't been late to church since...that'll teach me...


And it's not like I just want one thing in my next life. Greedy girl, I know.

I would also really love to be able to paint. I mean, really paint...Like Michelangelo or Raphael or Judith Leyster. I love the idea of setting my easel in the midst of a garden, surrounded by my paints and by nature, with Monet's waterlilies appearing magically from my brush...and, when I was done, they would actually look like waterlilies...*sigh


OK. Back to this life. In this life, I can't draw very well but, just like singing, I do it anyway. Maybe I don't need to be the world's best painter, maybe I would just like to draw better.

So, inspired by my work on this piece, and by Betty Edwards' Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain (she swears anybody can draw), I'm going to take a drawing class at my local art center and see what happens.


But all of this is background soundtrack for My Symphony.

When I began this piece, I was thinking of what I am not. And, over time and many stitches, I have come to embrace what I am.

Simply put, I am a painter with threads and I sing through my needlework.

My medium is cotton and silk and fabric and beads and any other bauble that strikes my fancy. I am indeed standing in the middle of the field, inspired by nature, and stitching my masterpiece of a life.


The music in the background of this piece is Beethoven's Ode to Joy printed on fabric and it underscores my life's symphony. It's joy, it's gratitude and it's the only song I ever learned to play on the piano. And, it's this life -- not the next one.


So, I don't know if I'll ever get a next life or not, but I'm not sure I would want to give up my needle and thread in order to be able to sing and paint.

Thank God I don't have the choice. I am almost certain I would mess it all up if I did.


Thank you for taking this journey with me. It seems like it's taken me forever to finish this piece from when I first started last October. But I liked that I tried a lot of new things while making this piece.

Here are a few back links to the various phases of this piece if you're interested.

Free-motion embroidering the grass
Making the Butterflies
Making the Canvas, Palette and Brush
Dressing the Doll
Glittering the Background Fabric
Painting and Printing the Background Fabric
Self-Portrait Inspiration

Now, I'm off to make a snowman...Maybe in my next life, there won't be snow!

November (2008) Bead Journal Project Completed

Abundance...

When I first started this piece in November of 2008, the country had just elected Barack Obama as President. At first, I envisioned this black hand to be his hand and I imagined his hand trying to juggle all of the various crises in the world: the economy, the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, health care, global warming, you name it.

But I found that when I tried to focus on all of these issues in the world, I was overwhelmed and felt that the issues were too large and beyond my own personal sphere of influence.

So instead, the hand in the piece became my own and I began to reflect on my life to date, on the choices I have made, and on how I will choose to live my future.

And I realized that I, along with so much of humanity, have been handed this incredible world and this amazing life -- rich and abundant and full of potential.


I can only imagine what it must have been like on earth just 1,000 years ago.

How many more species of animals and plants existed at that time? How clear the water must have been and how beautiful the skies...Abundant.


And I began to think that perhaps the world's problems were not beyond my sphere of control.

Today, I admit that I have made choices that have not been fair to this earth. I have chosen to have heat or air conditioning in my home whenever I want it. I have chosen to take a hot shower whenever I feel dirty and put fertilizer on my lawn because somehow dandelions and clover are bad. I have chosen to buy my meat in a grocery store where the meat is taken from large animal farms where the waste is overrunning our streams and bays. And I have thrown so much away. No longer wanted it. Disposed of it. Tossed it.


I have chosen to give up abundance in the long run...in order to have comfort and convenience in the short term. When Jack speaks of global warming, he speaks of what we must do to preserve the earth for his future and for his children's future...and he said, "You caused it Mom. OK, well maybe not you personally Mom...But your generation caused it."

Now, my immediate gut reaction is...not just me...not just my generation...Come on. It started way before me. But I wait before I answer and I think about it...My generation certainly didn't start it all but we didn't try to end it either...we were definitely a contributing factor...

And once again my child teaches me a lesson and I said, "You're right, Jack. In the past, we have made poor choices about caring for our earth. And now we know we must do something."

And in all of that, there is a metaphor for the gifts that I have been given -- for my abundant life.


This bead journal piece is a reminder to me of what is most precious. Of those gifts that are irreplaceable -- my family, my friends, myself, this earth...

They are the treasures that I have received by being here today, right now. What will I make of those gifts? What will I do with this one, unique and abundant life?

I don't know the answer to that. But I know that I have to continue to remind myself to choose wisely...and to remember what is most precious...


So that nothing is wasted.

August Bead Journal Project Completed

A Daughter's Valentine

Today, I completed my August Bead Journal piece. Though, for many BJP participants, completing August is symbolic of completing the entire year of bead journals, I still have three months to go, having skipped forward to August so that I could work on it during the month.

If you've been following my progress here, you will know that I began stitching this piece in memory of my Mother who passed away in March of last year. It was inspired by the Sailors' Valentines that she and I admired so much and had always wanted to make. I have included many elements which are special to my memories of my Mom -- including the Alstroemeria flowers I wrote about in my last post,

Aquamarines which were her favorite gemstones and matched her eyes, all the shades of aqua and blue that were her favorite colors,

And plenty of shells. Shells which she admired and loved to collect, placing them in the same categories as precious jewels...


I had a very difficult time starting this piece and a very difficult time finishing it as well. I'm still trying to figure out why but I do plan to make a few more pieces of similar style.


Having said all that, there is one thing of which I am absolutely certain...

My Mother would have absolutely loved this piece.

And I absolutely loved making it for her.

Completed May Bead Journal Project

The Pursuit of Happiness

The inspiration for my May Bead Journal Project began when I was walking the run course of the Liberty to Liberty Triathlon. Walking when everyone else is running in a triathlon is like showing up to a black tie event in your jeans and t-shirt. It's embarassing. And it makes you feel like a failure because you feel like everyone else is running by thinking... "Oh, at least I'm doing better than her; at least I'm not walking..." So, I was thinking this way, when I saw a beautiful thistle on the side of the path and it caused me to break my self-pitying line of thinking. One thought..."I wonder how I stitch this thistle?" broke a whole series of negative thoughts that had entered my mind...feelings of failure, hurt, defeat...all vanished in an instant. Like magic. Which led me to question myself, why was I thinking this way to begin with? What good did that do? And, for the umpteenth time during that race, my day took a turn for the better.

And when my friends ran back out -- after they had already finished -- to keep me company, to walk me into the finish line...so I wouldn't be alone...so I wouldn't feel like a loser...it was one of the happiest moments of the day.


There was power in my thinking and I felt it. And there was power in the actions of my friends and I felt that too. And maybe this power, this energy...this pursuit of something greater than ourselves, was what the day was all about.

We had immersed ourselves in patriotic fervor; participating in a bike ride which took us from the Gateway of Freedom, the Statue of Liberty, in New York City to the Home of Democracy in Philadelphia. My girlfriends and I couldn't help but embrace our country, embrace our fellow man, and embrace the truths on which our country was founded. Sure we had a lot of fun, but it wasn't about the crowns that we wore, or the streamers we placed on our bikes or the songs we sang to the volunteers as we rode into the rest stops...


It was about our attitude. That day, we were five Liberty Ladies and we spread smiles wherever we went. But how did it happen?

I think it's because we, as a group, made a conscious decision that day. We had decided we were going to have fun, no matter how tired or hot or thirsty we became. And because we had decided that, we forced ourselves to smile and to wave and to sing -- even when we weren't feeling it. So when we met other bikers, runners, volunteers, photographers, family members and innocent bystanders, we smiled and waved and sang and then they forgot how tired and hot and thirsty they were. And we started a chain reaction and happiness spread like wildfire. I honestly couldn't believe it.

And I had no idea it was so powerful until we were thanked by one person after another at the end of the day -- and they told us -- "You made our day!"


Right there in Philadelphia, in the birthplace of our country, we had made happiness a priority and it had grown larger than ourselves. So, as I stitched this bead journal piece hour after hour, I ruminated on the power of the human spirit -- I mean, heck, we were only participating in a triathlon but what if we were trying to change the world? And so I thought some more, more about the meaning of democracy, the meaning of freedom and the meaning of life.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness....[Declaration of Independence]"

...the pursuit of happiness...


What is the pursuit of happiness and what does it mean? Why are so many people unhappy even though they live in this country where liberty and freedom are protected? What makes us happy and what makes happiness worthy of pursuit?

FDR once said, "I believe that happiness lies in the joy of achievement and the thrill of creative effort." And I believe that too.

I also believe that great effort springs naturally from great attitude.

Amen. Attitude is everything.

So maybe, it's life, liberty and the pursuit of a positive attitude.

Oh, I know, I'm not the first to think that there is power in positive thinking.

Buddha said, "All that we are is the result of what we have thought. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him. If a man speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness follows him, like a shadow that never leaves him."


I mean, thoughts are energy. And I believe that positive thoughts change the world. And we must be the change we wish to see in the world. (Who said that? thanks to Google. It was Mahatma Gandhi.)

Ergo, we must embody happy thoughts.

And Actions Speak Louder Than Words. The Dalai Lama says that "Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions" And our actions began with our thoughts, right?

So, happiness is generated from within...within our own thoughts...and it comes not from other people. For to look for happiness through other people is a folly BUT

Surrounding ourselves with people who think positively, who act positively, can help us change the way we think and act. It can help us to toss away our judgments, our criticisms and treat all men as our equal. It can help us to be better neighbors.


So maybe it's Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of the Golden Rule -- I will love my neighbor as myself. Or, Life, Liberty and the pursuit of happiness for our friends and neighbors??

Buddha said that "Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared."

So then, does happiness occur when what you think, what you say and what you do are in harmony? If so, then the freedom of thought, the freedom of speech and the freedom to act are critical to our happiness.

That leads me to believe that without the protection of these unalienable rights, the pursuit of happiness would be severely hampered. And with the protections of these rights, happiness can almost be guaranteed. So then why aren't more Americans happy?


It seems that there ought to be happy people everywhere.

Well, I think EVERYONE has happy thoughts, at least occasionally, and sometimes all it takes is a happy word or action to trigger them into action. And though, it doesn't always work and the spark sometimes fizzles, the idea that one happy spark might ignite a whole series of happy fireworks encourages us to try again.

So, this is what happened when five of my happy friends, decided to help their neighbors and to smile and sing even when they were dog-tired. And they Changed the Day for a lot of people.

While working this piece I thought about this powerful example in life and I had an epiphany of sorts. A realization that I must be more purposeful and intent on my pursuit of happiness. That living in this great country doesn't guarantee happiness -- but it does guarantee the freedom and liberty to pursue happiness. And I must be diligent to calm the busy-ness that robs me of the time to think good thoughts and do good deeds -- that perhaps, the pursuit of happiness requires one to be more present in the moment and to pay more attention to our neighbors -- more than just waving to them as they speed by in their cars.

And spending all day yesterday at the Statue of Liberty National Park cemented it into my brain. That amazing statue was the result of a very powerful idea from a very talented sculptor; a very powerful thought from a purposeful French statesman; and the very powerful ideas and words of a (now famous) newspaperman in New York City -- as a result, we have the Statue of Liberty. But that's a subject for another day.

Have a Happy Day.

April Bead Journal Project Complete

The Elixir of Life

Today, I wonder

Are you bad as me?

And drink too many

Cups of tea?

Two in the morning

when I first awake

A third in an hour

When the first two don’t take.

And by mid-morning

I slake my thirst

With one more cup

That rivals the first.

Two cups with lunch

And then none ‘til four

When I take down my pot

And give it a pour.

For late afternoon

It’s time for High Tea

So I drink the whole pot

Just myself, I and me.

Happy Hour is next,

And rather than wine

I choose to have tea

Before I dine.

And after I’ve supped

All sweets I forsake

I choose tea for dessert

And skip all that cake!

At the end of the day,

I’m warmed by my cup,

And have my last sips

To wrap the day up.

When at last I sleep

Away I float

On a river of tea

My cup for a boat.

And so, I ask you,

Are you bad as me?

And drink too many

Cups of tea?

I first began my April BJP with this poem. And then, as I beaded my river of tea day after day, I began to ruminate on the important role tea plays in my life. How tea is a constant in my life, A river that runs through me, carrying me through every day and every moment.

I come from a long line of tea drinkers. My grandmother drank tea; my mother drank tea; my father drinks tea; all my siblings drink tea; my son drinks tea, and I can't get enough of the stuff.


The ritual and routine of making and drinking tea has carried me through many of life's joys and sorrows. I can't tell you how many gallons of tea we must have consumed while planning baby showers, graduations, weddings and funerals.

Tea is a great eraser, a salve, a remedy to the ills and the trials of every day life. My mother would often say to all of us, as we plopped exhausted in a chair after a hard day of school, and later, after a long day of work having just picked up our children from daycare..."Have a cup of tea and two Tylenol. It will make you feel better." And she was right. Only I save the two Tylenol for those really rough days.


Tea provides a segue from one event to another and is the excuse to sit around for hours the night after a big party and do a post-mortem on the event -- who was there, what did they say -- didn't everyone have a good time...

Tea provides a welcome mat, an opener for friends and family who stop by to visit...It says "Welcome to my home. I'm glad you are here and let us begin again to know one another"...

For my family, it's a way of demonstrating love and we each know how the other likes their elixir prepared...some with two sugars, some with none...And now, I have Jack and I'm proud to say that Jack is firmly ensconced in the ritual of tea. And, he knows without a shadow of a doubt, that when I make him a cup of tea, it means "I love you."

One of the last things my mother requested before she died was to have a cup of tea. The day it happened, my family and I were at home taking care of her. Mom had an aggressive form of leukemia and when the disease finally overtook her, she wanted nothing more than to die at home and so we took care of her there.


Mom had reached the stage of dying where she couldn't really converse anymore, her speech was difficult to understand, she was bed bound and she hadn't had anything to eat or drink for about two weeks except water. We knew we were getting close to the end.

So, this day, it was a shock when Mom was adamant about wanting to sit up in the recliner -- we hadn't done that in weeks either. So we moved her to the chair and she was trying to say something and I was struggling to understand. "Water?" She shook her head no. "Pillow?" No. And then, I couldn't believe what I thought she had said...

"I'm sorry Mom, I'm trying to understand. I think you just said that you wanted a cup of tea?" I asked incredulously. And she nodded and a smile touched her eyes. "You want a cup of tea?", I repeated with delight and wonder and hope in my voice..."Really?" And she nodded yes.

It was an awakening of sorts. Imagine having had a couple of weeks of minimal communication from Mom and all of the sudden...this! She wanted a cup of tea! It was a moment of joy amidst many moments of sadness.


So I walked out of the bedroom and when I did so, my father looked up and asked with his eyes..."What does she need?" And I told him, with a big smile..."Mom wants a cup of tea!"

"She what? A cup of tea?" "No....Really?" He asked repeating the request to make sure he had understood. And I said it again. Then a big smile spread across his face and he said, "Well, then, let's make a cup of tea!" And he hopped up and busied himself putting on the water, getting out the cups, etc.


And, as we helped Mom to hold the cup...her shoulders began to relax, the tension dropped from her face, and she settled back into the moment as the warmth spread from the cup to her tired hands...and she just held it.

After a few minutes, I could tell she wanted a sip so I helped her bring the cup to her lips. Mom hadn't sipped from a cup in weeks and I was overly optimistic and believed that she would actually be able to sip like she used to -- I mean, amazing things were happening this day...


Well, she couldn't manage it very well. She sputtered and coughed as some of the liquid went into her lungs and the tea dribbled down her chin. But she smiled. She smiled and croaked out, clear as day, "It's good..." which made us all smile together.

Her shoulders relaxed a little more and we sat there for quite a while helping her to hold her cup and to take little sips of her final cup of tea. She died about another week or so after that and never requested another thing.


And on the morning that she died, after we had made the important phone calls and we had that intermittent silence, waiting for the world to show up...realizing that we were in transition to another ritual that would carry us through our grief, waiting for it to start. Because we, the care team, had nothing left to do. She was gone. This woman whom we had loved and cared for to the best of our ability no longer needed us.

The silence was tangible; it felt threatening. Every sound, every tick of the clock was amplified and deafening.


So, I got up and started moving just to take the silence away. And I walked into the kitchen, and there on the counter, were the cups all in a row, hot water having just been poured into each one. My brother Mark had made us tea. And so that's how we beat that powerful silence, that void. We filled it with tea while we drank our last cup with our Mom and waited for the world to show up.


Tea is powerful. It's an Elixir of Life. It is the cheapest therapy I know and it is a universal language of love.

And so, when I have reached the end of my journey, and I can no longer express it for myself --

I hope someone will remember how I like my tea.


Plain old Lipton, one level teaspoon of sugar, steeped for 6 minutes with a dollop of skim milk.

That'll be all I need. Thanks.

March BJP Complete

"Flight Delay"


This August it will be 7 years (!) since I stopped working as an executive at a large senior housing company and returned home to my nest. Jack was in first grade and I know it's cliche to say, but I can't believe how time has flown...

At the time, there were two main reasons driving my decision... the first, they were eliminating my job as I had known it and, the second, and most important at the time, I wanted to have another child. For two years prior, I had been in a fertility program trying to have another child. The heavy doses of hormones I was receiving plus the monthly emotional rollercoaster of hope and despair wasn't helping my mental state. So, I bailed. I needed a break. With both Jim and me working full-time, my frequent traveling and Jack being a young child -- I was not living the stress-free-lifestyle that was conducive to baby-making-love-making, if you know what I mean...


I had "unexplained fertility" and was a "poor responder" to treatment which led everyone taking care of me to say it was all related to stress. I just needed to "relax" and it would all happen. I was seeking treatment from anyone who I thought could help me...alternative practitioners, acupuncturists, massage therapists, and medical doctors -- They were all trying to help me relax and conceive -- But the reality was that I just needed to step down off that crazy treadmill which I had worked so hard to get to...and give myself a break.


If I really wanted to be honest with myself, I needed to make a paradigm shift in my life...

And so, 7 years later and no second baby to show for it, I'm still here in the nest taking care of the one child I am blessed to have. I miss my old job and the work I used to do. I had always loved my job, loved the company I worked for, and loved all the people I worked with...But as I've gotten further away -- I feel blessed to have had the experience and have begun to wonder if I will ever have another work experience to match that again? I begin to worry that I am becoming a little stuck here in my nest...


I won't go into all the benefits that both Jack, Jim and my family have experienced by my being here in my nest. Suffice it to say that our nest is stronger than ever and able to withstand many storms -- we're fortified now with love, and constancy, and routine. I absolutely see my "worth" here at home with Jack, especially now that he's going through that horribly-insecure time of adolescence when everything else is changing for him...it's nice that home is pretty constant. In fact, I think it's more important now for me to be here than when he was smaller. God (and the economy!) willing, I can see the benefit of staying at home until Jack goes to college.


And yes, I understand that this time is fleeting by and will be gone before I know it. In March, the cherry blossoms were blooming here in Baltimore which led me to think about the transience of life and how quickly time passes. How Jack will be grown and gone before I know it. And how, in this life, it is not what job I am doing at any one point in time, but that I've tried to live each moment as best I can...


But then, my anxieties creep in...If I'm really honest with myself, Jack won't be the only one leaving the nest in five years...I'll be leaving it too...moving onto my next "career" because I DO want to return to work. But maybe I can't wait five years? What if Jim loses his job, it would be better to have a back-up plan already underway... But then, I settle myself and have faith that I must be in the right place because it feels that way... it feels "right". And I can't help feeling rooted in this nest, surrounded by the people, the hobbies and the home that I love...

Will I be able to fly again when the time is right? Boy, I can really appreciate the fear that others experience associated with this new flight -- and I have never attributed those fears to myself before. But, they are there.

I'm not sure anymore where I should be flying and what I should be doing. I have been trying to live in the moment but remain unclear as to where all those moments are leading me?

Will I know when it's time to fly? Will I remember how?


For now, I just know that my flight is delayed.

Until further notice.

Bead Journal Project -- February 2009

"My Other Great Love"
I am a romantic through and through. And, yes, Valentine's Day is my favorite holiday. This is a hard thing to admit since there are so many out there who feel like Valentine's Day was created by card companies to make lots of money. Well, this may be so. But I believe if we have the opportunity to celebrate those we love...well then, why not? I don't have to buy a card from a card store...Plus, everything is pink and red which are two of my favorite colors...and there are just so many things to love about love.


As I was beading February's BJP, I wanted to pay homage to the other great love of my life. My first, of course, is my husband. And yes, I have been blessed with a great marital love. But I also have another that rivals the first; and evidence of this love is everywhere around me. And, there are very, very many similarities between my two great loves.


And so, I suppose it goes without saying that my other great love is my needle "work" -- yet for me, it's hardly "work"-- I'd rather it be needle "joy" or needle "love" or needle "play". And, I suppose, on a really good day, someone somewhere might call it art -- I'm not sure what that is -- for somehow, I feel that for something to be designated as art, it is decided elsewhere...by some council or accrediting body -- certainly not by oneself. Anyway...

I have passion for textiles, for needle and thread, for embroidery. I have an emotional connectivity with my needles, fabrics and threads that gives me great delight, support and friendship. When I can't be with with my needlework, then I'm constantly thinking of it and dreaming about what I will do when I finally get to spend time playing.


My needleplay fills my life. I am devoted to it. I live for it. And I hope to live the rest of my life with it by my side. For better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health...you get the picture.

This is a serious relationship and one I began to explore for my February BJP. It started as a desire to use that fine piece of metallic blue silk ruffle ribbon, then that sequined pink netting, and that art deco-like bead applique. These were precious bits of history, someone else's handwork, that somehow needed to be honored.

It was a joy to be with this project and express my love for all things needle-worthy.


And, in my contemplation of this other great love of mine, I realized how I could learn a few things from my love-of-needle; things that might help me in my First Great Love -- in my relationship with Jim, my husband.

-- Both loves require creativity -- some days I just need to show up and surround myself only with him and see what comes of it. If he becomes my focus, suddenly all kinds of worlds open up to me that I could not foresee.

-- Both loves require me to relinquish control. One thing leads to another. I pick up a particular thread, use it, and it changes the course of my creation. Likewise, if I am fully present with Jim, and I follow what he says or does, then the two of us are improvising and arriving somewhere together. The two of us in control, not me alone.


-- Both loves take effort and dedication. Today, I will love this man, though I may be tired. I will love him even when his ribbons are wrinkled and his colors are faded. I can find something here to love even though it may not be what I expected when I walked in...I can create love anew with the materials that are laid before me.

-- Both loves require that I just show up and I say "yes" -- that I put the time in. That I set aside other agendas and I make time just for him. I show up to "work" on our relationship just as I show up to "work" on a project -- if I'm lucky, it all evolves into play...

-- Both loves require me to apply myself -- to be completely present. To delight in the moment and for being alive -- for being able to create -- a garment, a project, a life...

But the similarity that I think I love most of all...is that both loves require finishing touches.


Whether it be a bead or a button that is perfectly placed...or a hug or a kiss on the cheek at just the right moment... This attention to detail, this attention to Jim -- moves us from something that is ordinary -- to a moment that makes life full and abundant, that makes life extraordinary.

And therein lies peace...happiness...and great love. And the greatest of these...is love.