Pause, look, grin, and say, "I'm busy, thank you much."

Tonight I find myself chilling out at Starbucks Coffee here in Huntersville, filling my mind and heart with Aesop Rock, drinking chai tea, and trying to organize all of my thoughts over the strange masterpiece of events that have unfolded in my life over the last month. I mean seriously, so many things have changed, but I fear nothing.

Lately, I’m aching. I need to have my mind in order, I haven’t been able to be that creative since I’ve returned home to Charlotte on this hiatus. All of my equipment, my hard drive which contains all of my previous film and video work, my camera… are sitting in a closet or the garage, lost somewhere in Orange County, New York…. I also left my heart in New York. I wonder if ever we'll ever be together. I miss him terribly, my dear friend......Until further notice.

Until further notice, I give up on absolutely none of my dreams. I am determined more than ever to make some shit seriously happen.

Suspence bewilders, the deeper the roots.

The Squid and The Whale, courtesy of the American Museum of Natural History, Manhattan, New York. Photographed by Me.

And thus, it begins…..

Lately, it seems I am passing this silent, arduous time by filling the new holes in my life with razorblade crayon drawings, and whimsical sharp edges that cut clean through the window of my silhouette in passing. Contrary to how I feel, I do not actually wish to cease to exist, rather, I wish to root myself deeply into the black, dirty soil of who I am and furiously grow, higher and higher, and then to reach– To live and to live, to live and to love. I’ve seen a little part of me in everyone. I am relatively animated and luminescent, a fusion of all things ridiculously beautiful and stellar and tattered and falling apart. I am not broken beyond repair, yet I am delicate and fragile. What I mean is that I need a little bit of solidarity and peace. I am the carp plucked from the pond, invasively inserted into a mobil swampland. It is not my choice, nor my preference, nor positive for my health, but it is what I presently have to work with.

What this entails, exactly, is a lot of mornings and afternoons spent sitting in solitude and observing, absorbing, planning, creating, conceiving of, and mentally executing. Imaginary painting of images and compositions on imaginary canvases, on imaginary screens. Until I am re-united with all of my belongings still left in New York amongst everything else I lost in the fire, this will seem to be the day-in and turn around of my life. Seemingly endless and perpetual sunrise/sunset opening and drifting of my mind until I can once again rest upon the shore.

And until that day.