some of them leave you
than when -Y'ou arrived.
of these. Places that
sovereignty through the mouth. too
the rib's cages, beneath the tongue.
where you can feel it absorbing.
like the characters in your books
this story drives a
eats cornbread with a spoon.stirs things up
a bit. at a time
we all need to fall in love with
a desert and then a waterfall.
just so we know the difference.
this story sleeps on
wh?at you're thinking
through the afternoon. and
hears you.listens.before the words fall out.
because we all.hope.
someone might come along and believe in us
that we believe ourselves.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
This song from the Black Angels found its way into my ears a few nights ago.. absolutely rocked me. I see humanity asking these questions... I feel myself asking these questions of myself.
We lose our sense of permanence, we lose our fear, and then we lose nothing anymore - because we realize it is always ours to re.make.. We are the question as well as the fullfilment discovered in our answer.
"..As I get older, I long even more for the wisdom and companionship of other living things; to stay in conversation with all I love, with all I admire, with all who have suffered and given of themselves to stay alive (awake) and to keep life going. In many ways, our stories are part of one story. Our pain is part of one pain. Our surprise at the beauty and fragility of life is part of one chorus of awe. My passion now is to stay as close as possible to the pulse of what is kind and true to stay in conversation with what happens there and to experience more and more ways to listen. "
- Mark N.
- Mark N.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Our journey took us to the heart of Key West, a place full of poet-visionaries and eclectic spaces. Its streets evoke the creation of music,.. its atmosphere urges you to press beyond your personal expectations. While seeking out the lullaby echos of steel drums.. I wandered down an overgrown alley and found this man.. an Key West artist whose inspiration left a solid mark of goodness my heart.
"You are very fortunate..", he told us.. "..you are young."
An artist his entire life.. he has been sustaining his body and mind, while living in his camper van.. for the past twenty years. Creating, envisioning, sharing, cultivating.. this man's life is about experiencing the world through his own reality. As we talked I kept looking into his sprakling eyes, and admiring his soft, white cloaked face.. He showed us drawings of eleborate apartments in New York, abstract paintings of vivid colors, and sketches that can only be discribed as the "energies of music". Wearing a loose sweater that one of his children knit.. he spoke about musicians, about culture, about the strangeness of becoming old.. and this crazy, warm smile kept making its appearance on my face. I realized how simliar we both were. I realized that I could be this man in 50 years.. and that didn't bother me at all.. because we are both simply humans creating our own definitions of life.
I think one of the most liberating things to know about this life is that we are free to make it up any way we choose. Meeting this artist and hearing his story reminded me of the open-ended sacredness of this non-permanent experience. It is up to us to define or defend our pursuits.. we may (the choice is open to us) become world leaders, or we may (the choice is open to us) become island artists living from the sheerness of our van. It is beautiful either way.. and in all directions.