Today is the day.
You’re here. Stop aspiring. Stop planning. The future is important but it will come hell or highwater.
The best you can do is stop reaching for the Bohemia you’ve always imagined. This is 2014. The cultural mecca is all around you. You can’t reach past your face without coming in contact with something to inspire and turn you into the new creative genius. and sometimes not even that far
All we can do is compare to the past. There have been millions upon millions of souls searching for the same damn thing for eons. And you have the audacity to claim you can create something new? Some thought that someone far greater than you hasn’t already had? The point is not the material but the poignancy of that moment. Art is of the now. Art has to be reactionary. You can pretend to become a proactive liar or you can give the best interpretation of what is happening around you in terms of what you know and who you are.
Even as I type this- each sentence seems a cliché. Who says originality is the only way to move a soul?
And then-where can this go. How arrogant can I be to pretend that anyone wants to read this?
Who says I need anyone to read it if they can?
Starts small and grows. You wanna be a rock superstar. So what? Who are you gonna tell? Who are you gonna make listen?
This could be a book. If anyone wanted to- this could be a reflection. Until you begin reading you’ll never know how long it is. You could be holding fifty million letters that beguile and entrance or you could be holding fifty million repetitions of the letter q.
TIME MAY PASS> YOU WILL PASS > Everything else goes away.
This could be written anywhere. Maybe it is. Written in the veins of a leaf on some tiny flower. Written in the cell walls and in the instinct to open and close. In the way a color knows its own compliments in nature. We did not invent the fall color scheme. Nature has a sense of style and creative eye that can never aknowledge. We are too small to know its scope.
What if there’s something between science and faith. Maybe that’s where the truth about our soulsandourselves that we can’t find but certainly don’t take the time to look for.
Where does my spirit live?