Gold Candles with Work

The table of contents for the day is unfinished, embraced by the unknown. There’s an alluring draw of the unscheduled afternoon and yet, I’m most definitely a defender of the routine for myself. I love my mornings spent at Starbucks. To light gold candles with work. Oh, to tune in to languages of notebooks and hands. Afternoons painting with the only company – lyrical storytelling in the form of music.

As the U.S. as a country charges down a tumultuous road politically, I feel stronger than ever that I must play a role as an artist to make meaning and value in experiences of beauty in all otherwise mayhem that I can’t control. Make meaning and beauty and charge my higher self. Be of good in a world that needs it so badly at this moment. To raise my own consciousness and serve to raise the consciousness of those in my own significant sphere of friends and people I encounter.

At the coffee shop where I sit, conversations float in disarray from one corner of the room to another. The occasional squeak of a chair pushed into its table. Beautiful actors in a theater that we call reality. Oh, to see beyond this – still, I want to stay here where I am and linger awhile in ambiguity and paradox. I’m reminded of the play and shadows of reality, but this one, at the moment, is enough for me to think about and select words to settle on lyrically.

Published on: Apr 3, 2018

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