My dreams are woven from dark fabric; bound in smoke and fire – embellished with tears. Yet, to see such decoration our eyes need light. It is pointless to weave intricate patterns that cannot be seen. There can never be destruction without creation.
Pessimistic pondering must be balanced by Idealism, or the entire dream collapses into depthless nightmare.
So, yes. I am a man with Pessimistic Idealism driving my thoughts. Since nothing is mutually inclusive, these two clashing concepts work in balance to create some future vision. I think they birth Hope…and a fragile Faith.
Earlier this year we literally gave away everything we owned and went full-time in our 5th wheel (the Grand Oppression Palace, of GOP). Then, of course, life happened!
Remembering Ice and Cold
If I look at measures, I think in winters. Not moons, suns, stars or the ticks on a ruler or those of a clock. I recollect by the numb freeze of fingers and ears. Heavy feet in boots. The rhythmic puff clouds huffed out in blue-grey morning light.
It could have gone (should have gone) much faster, been a cleaner process, but I’m a hired gun; I’m working in a team that is very unfamiliar with one another, and not every piece of our source material was ready–hell, some of it didn’t even exist! But, that’s why I was brought in; I know this stuff from the general to the most technical and I can teach it all, to anyone. This is going to sound terribly arrogant, but I am one of the very few people in the world who can do this type of work, on this scale, in this scope…on a world-wide stage.
Fall Inventory 2016
The light changes in September, takes on an edge and a hue that sets my nerves on fire; it’s always the beginning of darkness, reflection, and a certain amount of struggle. This year it’s a little different…life’s a little different because I’ve stopped fighting as much.
Let me assure my few readers that I am OK. This is a process