In the absence of humanity and the quiet of morning, mixing to make magic for a creative willing to search, for an independent willing to reach. With the mind stretched thin from spinning and sprinting all night, with the fingertips calloused from running circles around the keys, with the soul worn soft from the steady brooding and banging of doors as passages to perception open in front and slam shut behind, invisible except to the ears, leaving the very plain on which we usually exist and finally making it to the place we all yearn to be, the safe haven for the creative mind, the place in which it naturally flourishes, the valley of space which opens up to virgin thought, fresh, expressive ideas, the time that falls in rhythm with the heartbeat and breath. At this moment, the journey pays off in the form of a short fleeting reward from the great nurturing mother nature herself as she paints the sky and sets the patterns to a cycle of beauty that only she can create, greater than man, deeper than the oceans, more beautiful than irony in the face of evil.
I roamed the streets which had been ravished by a hurricane mere months earlier, the once flat road broken to pieces and placed on the shoreline, the houses behind me vacant and destroyed, a clear reminder of just how powerless we are in the face of nature, and how quickly it can take the material mess we create and sweep it away, soaking it in ruin, deleting it from the desktop which served as our so-called home. I feel the energy, it keeps getting heavier, fueling my soul, unhinging my spirit, and sending my subconscious into a frenzy of feeding on inspiration, allowing my creativity to breathe freely, providing time and space for the decision to open the channel of my being in order to aid in the passing of countless creatives before, those whose words have helped mold me as a man, those whose work has served as a masterclass to this particular student.
Things changed at this moment, my steps grew to leaps, a simple stride has now become a leap followed by a bound. And so I’m open, awake, and aware again...instead of eyes stopping me I can once again see through them and deep into the soul, instead of hearing the words of the world around me I am able to understand, comprehend, and answer the opposing powers that serve as a paralytic to the masses that make up the public. Things look different on the level, not so intimidating, twice as intriguing, causing a realization of stature, place, and position; affording the ability to exist as not only an intellectual being, but to move with fluidity, to stare with seduction, to speak with a sense of sexuality and lust caused by this love for life. A body popping with electricity, an explosive mind, a quiet, yet contagious confidence. I walk with company, though nameless and faceless, it’s clearly by my side, serving as a my guide, protecting my psyche which waves in the wind and is now made up of swaying strands on the fringes of normalcy waiting to be salvaged and sewn up by one who can recognize a state of such rarity, saved by someone who can spot the elegance of enlightenment even in the most darkest of realities.