Standing on the threshold of 2007, I've got my hands in the warm pockets of my jeans and I'm looking up at the sky. Climate change is creeping in the front door steadily (72 degrees in Central Park today), wars rage on in sandy, far away places with real consequences, I'm idling and hanging out with good friends, and my heart is full of love for all the insanity that swirls around us. It's like a coriolis effect of positives and negatives, hope and despair, twisting together and spiraling all over this sphere of my mindscape, cirrus clouds of delight preceding thunderstorms of cathartic flash floods, moved back to clear skies and sweet smell of ozone in the starry clear sky the night after.
I'm helping a friend build a house again (alittlehouse.blogspot.com for pictures of it and yours truly) and enjoying the feeling of old buildings pass through my hands. Wood milled once and assembled a long time ago by past craftsmen gets rebirth through Matt and I as we cut it, plane it, assemble it, stain it, and admire our work at the end of cold short days. It's something I do love, creating small pieces of tangible structure and order from earth, metal, wood, and glass. Satisfaction is my sweet reward for resisting (never give up!) entropy if only for a little while as I sojourn on the earth.
2007 will be a time of coming together again, big changes, tectonic sonic booms of culture on the rocks, touching discoveries as we bravely walk in the undiscovered country, the silent magnitude of a swiftly tilting planet hurtling unimaginably and effortlessly around the sun. What will we do different for this little piece of paradise and time that we have undeservedly found ourselves in? How can we honor our good fortune to be alive, with friends, food, rest, hope, and choice? I'm aiming to be a photon for peace, love, and intrepid exploration, coming to a retina near you with a story to paint on the inside of your mind. Maybe with the right tools we can go Jackson Pollack on each other's worldviews, blow out some cobwebs and drizzle creative love from up high on the gigantic expectant canvas of our opened minds. Or perhaps we can make some popcorn with a little dill and salt on it, and snuggle in front of cold windows hoping for snow...
No comments:
Post a Comment