“I want to reach up and touch the sky.”
Supernaut, Black Sabbath
I like finding a place where nature is still stronger than man. Channeling the awe and feeling of a world beyond our manipulation. To be at peace with one’s self, you must find yourself. It’s not hidden among others. It’s not the title of the job you work. It’s not your collection of inanimate objects. It what you are. Peace is surrendering to what you are not.
I like not sticking to a script. Or following directions, notice the lack of list here of numbered items. Chaos is my friend. Order is an iron cage.
I like flowers.
I have been largely influenced by songs and lyrics. The imagery that can be created by word play, or sounds that are mixed in. The mood is a personal feel. The ability to project this into another person is magic. Even the nonsense strewn into lyrics collectively can produce vivid views. One of the best at the lyric game, Bob Dylan.
From Subterranean Homesick Blues
“Get sick, get well
Hang around an ink well
Ring bell, hard to tell
If anything’s gonna sell
Try hard, get barred
Get back, write Braille
Get jailed, jump bail Join the army, if you fail
Look out kid
You’re gonna get hit”
The whole thing is just over two minutes. It sounds like rap about 20 years too early without the heavy beats.
I have an affinity for people who are genuine. Not necessarily happy sing about rainbows all the time. Real people who have craved out their pave in space and time, put their claim on it, and fly their flag over it comes hell or high water! (I like the hell or high water phrase, it’s hard to fit in a story).
Photography is another guilty pleasure. It traps those places forever. It holds time still for later use. What could be better? OK there are times that would be bad. But this is likes.
Good little Tom cats!