from the balcony…

It’s funny how life can ebb and flow. How sounds and scents, tastes and textures can come and go with a memory, a passing car with a song from your past sifting through the busy air. Conversations with old friends remind you of who you were, back then, back when…

Is it possible to harness inspiration, to cup it in my hand as I feel it leaving my body just as soon as it entered? Is it possible to live in a state of constant productivity? Continual awareness of the elusive moments of pure devotion to that which you do, want to do, dream of doing…like the foamy edge of the oceans’ wave touching your feet before it’s dragged back across the wet sand to join its whole. Is it possible to walk in a straight line? To never come upon that which you’ve already crossed…

Everything seems circular.

Walk long enough and you will see your back, your eyes lost in the future, if only you could speak, the two of you, the present and the future you, converse together about what is to come, maybe then the circle would straighten out, and the inspiration, the fleeting moments of insanity pulsing through your body will become ever-present…the ocean a lake.

Abstract thoughts on what it feels like to come upon a moment of inspired thought, momentary in time and shape. As if the muse left after the first letter was typed, and all that can be written from there on out is a guess at what the first letter was the beginning of.

Maybe that’s why some babies cry when they are born. The muse touched them, gifted them, and left them in the same moment, leaving them to wander, hands outstretched, feeling their way back to that point when they knew who they were. A baby in a womb. Safe, simple.

The taste of her lips still with me today — a reminder of what was and may be to come. Living in the in between, the period before and after, that is where you must find the inspiration, remember where you hid it when it came and you put your hands around it, stole it away for times like this.

That is where this all comes from. That is where life ebbs and flows. Watching from the balcony, sun setting to the right. You can see the waves, hear them stretching out to you. Tomorrow you will feel them you say, tomorrow when it is light, tomorrow when it is warm, you say. That is when you will find your inspiration. That is when you will allow life to resume. Played out through your body.

Everything seems circular. All thoughts and feelings recycled, same material, different result. Maybe that is what makes life so beautiful. So worth living. The anticipation of when and where it will meet you, maybe that’s why we breathe in and out, giving ourselves time for the next encounter, this time hoping to grab it. This time hoping to steal it away.

~ by kevinthomas on February 23, 2007.