| After the Summer's drought, after the hillsides that were in the winter bursting with green turn golden in the sun's heat, I sit down after months to write. Words pour through my consciousness, whispered to me in frustration, in fervor and urgency. Get them down as fast as I can. The threshold of instability is where raw art is birthed from. The border between light and shadow. It had been my home for far too long. Last week, one of my favorite vocalists came to pay a visit from performing at the eclipse gathering in Oregon. We see each other once every six months, and each time, over the years I have seen the work wear on his face, an unforgiving heaviness, a disconnect in order to connect to those powers that be. There must be another way. I thought this to myself, studying the lines on his face. He had completely surrendered his life to his work. His desires, his fears, his longings. His suffering birthed beautiful melodies. And the only intimacy he was capable to receive was when he would allow his eyes to connect with another, but only when he stood on the threshold. The dividend. The stage. Lonely, blue coyote. Our paths have gone separate ways. I do not relate anymore to this self-imposed suffering. When you could just as easily reach out. Monastic, priest-like. With explosive sexuality kept under wraps. You believe you have control, but only grievance is found. I felt you, in your denial of this. Whatever it is, seizes you by the throat. Perhaps we are not so different after all. In this path though, you are eventually asked to relinquish all title, all passion, all pain and shadow. There is nothing left but the light. And slowly, at first, tenderly, its rays fall over you. Until your identity no longer matters. Your wants and fears give way only for the witnessing of each moment. Moment to moment. And tears do fall. This, I am certain. As the burning runs deeper past the flesh, and makes its way into the folds of tissue, muscle and bone. Tears fall, in both release and despair. And an overwhelming love enters you. A love with no agenda, no perimeter. And no decay. |
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