in my experience, the process of creation is both the act of paying exquisite attention to the world outside of you, and that internal process of tending to your inner world, planting beautiful things, one seed at a time – until one day, you’ll look inside youself and see that you’ve created your own kingdom, your own refuge, your infinite pool of strength – such that no matter where you are, no matter what happens in the world outside of you, your relationship to your creative instinct – and all that you create from it – will be the one thing that will always hold you, and make this one life feel more meaningful, more beautiful, and more worth living.

I told Miyazaki I love the "gratuitous motion" in his films; instead of every movement being dictated by the story, sometimes people will just sit for a moment, or they will sigh, or look in a running stream, or do something extra, not to advance the story but only to give the sense of time and place and who they are.

"We have a word for that in Japanese," he said. "It's called ma. Emptiness. It's there intentionally."

Is that like the "pillow words" that separate phrases in Japanese poetry?

"I don't think it's like the pillow word." He clapped his hands three or four times. "The time in between my clapping is ma. If you just have non-stop action with no breathing space at all, it's just busyness, But if you take a moment, then the tension building in the film can grow into a wider dimension. If you just have constant tension at 80 degrees all the time you just get numb."