I don’t know where it came from, but a beautiful new breath has been taken. A new passion, a purpose. Something to keep my blood pumping, and already I feel it stronger, feel the sickness fade, The fever in my eyes resides and the eyes brighten, become sharper.
I am listening to F-SPACE for the first time in a long while, and recall the time when I was riding my blue Schwinn 3-speed out on The Playa in ’03. I stopped to watch them, mesmerized. Only later did I find out that my oldest friend was their drummer, just couldn’t make it that year. The memories flood me, and creation begins again. I have at my fingertips and for my use the tools I need, some of the materials, the metal – it needs to burn but not decay. I will burn my past and create a new future, I will make an eternal flame in honor of my sorrow, and in doing so, through the sweat and blood and need, I will let everything go and become who I was again – as much as I can, at least. Some things I know will never come back, but the passion can be reborn again and again.
I’ve been sitting on my ass in a dream, consumed by the forest and a future that had been abandoned.
I begin to feel the hint of a fire inside again. Gods, it’s been so long since I felt this, been so long since I wasn’t ready to end everything at each slow and tormented second. The fire is lit, I call to who I used to be, the me I loved, and they come. They all come. I remember who I wanted to be.
Now, all I need is a concept. It will arrive when it is supposed to. I will teach myself to weld, it needs to be metal. Metal for it’s strength, and glass for the way it can shatter and cut so deeply…
Ideas will come. I will decide on the most appropriate one and create it to the best of my ability – which has seldom ever fallen short of my intention. I can do anything if I give a fuck about it, but unfortunately there are so few things I give that to. Time to learn again, time to feel the power in it. I will always find a way to come back.
I breathe a new breath.