Deep drum kicks and light taps making up the song of my walk, of our walk
You can feel them inside when you actually have time to consider them
I like to think the ancients had similar ideas when performing their rituals
People come in and make some new beats in the song, and then leave as it is time for the song to change
But there is always a constant beat in the background, this is me, the me that is raw
This beat harmonizes beautifully with those I have allowed to truly connect
When I was young, I used to sit under a mountain laurel tree and imagine it was my library, or my kingdom, or a place to mix flowers into paint
I used what I knew, with what was around me and created a place to get caught up in play
Now I use what I’ve learned to explore ideas
It is a yearning for something unknown, grasping from the unconscious a direction that comments on my untainted views of what I am processing
I wish I still had a mountain laurel tree to sit under
Instead symbols of nature reach out to me in my work
I exist in an atmosphere of realness, forced on me by cultural notions of the way things should be
But my creativity is allowed to overcome reality when I let myself play
Excitement from the things around me, and the need to see new things is what ties me to the world
I picture my foot tied to the ground, connected like a balloon waiting to be released
But the drumbeat keeps me stable, I will never know completely what it is like inside of myself, but I can tell you that I won’t stop looking
Looking at everything