Friday, February 22, 2008

Odd Thinking for a Friday

passion (pashun): 1. A powerful emotion, such as love, joy, hatred, or anger. 2. Ardent love. 3. Boundless enthusiasm

Passion, an often elusive, easily drowned, evasive grain of sand in a handful of beach that you live for or live without; missing but aware of its absence. I say all that because I have been passionate before about things I was doing, making or loving/hating. I know when its missing or misplaced. Obviously there are things I like, like sitting here spilling my guts to an invisible audience who couldnt turn away from a train wreck if somebody paid 'em; no slam intended—just DNA. I want to hear the course of the mighty river cutting down through the forest moving anything in its path, to feel the wind of its force scratching the surface of my face as my soul rides the wave...yes! It's real! It happens! Why should we settle for anything less or maybe; why do we settle for anything less? What chases it away or rips it from our bleeding fingers? I suspect its different for everyone; but I bet its all the same in the end. Some small part of us is dead; beaten lifeless by time and circumstance and kicked into an open ditch by the wayside. (I dont know what that means but I know what it means.) I remember a time I would stay up all night drawing without a picture in mind at the start but driven by something to keep drawing, watching it grow and appear and evolve before my eyes, letting time, food, people or anything but an occassional bathroom break ever be acknowledged. I remember my mother walking thru the dining room at 2:30am and shaking her head. With a slight grunt, she would flash her smile and go back to bed after nodding at the clock. Those were the days. The FORCE. It could replace anything and everything else. That's what I miss about then. In fact, there were times I was afraid to pick up the pencil for fear of knowing the power of the posession, knowing how time would slip away and how I would also disappear in the river of the FORCE; not to mention anyone close who would surely be ignored and offended by such ignorance. I guess you count the cost or so you tell yourself without acknowleding the collateral debt. There has always been a point for me that I have felt the FORCE become offended at being ignored and no priority given to its needs; then it reacts. It doesnt come back often or when submit to summons in an effort to teach you a lesson. Some say destiny and fate are the same way — what you ignore long enuf; ignores you back.

Once a month I am asked or ask myself, what am I passionate about? If there was one thing I had to do or I would die; what would it be? I'm not referring to people or relationships or food; but "essence," what is that part of myself that is completely essential? Sometimes I regret so many questions because the answers are rarely pretty. Luckily I have no problem with ugly and ugly things; the underdog of things—that is my atomic structure. Its kind of like the Stanger Than Fiction movie; this narrarator voice keeps whispering in the background; but in some other language. What is my passion? Do I have any left? Can I get it back? Can I get it back without losing anything I already have? History has demonstrated that artists are worth more dead than alive and that great artists attract disaster for creative fuel......hmmmm...(not going down that road).

Reality is a fog, hiding the nonfiction of our existence and irrelevance in a cosmos older than our ignorance.


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