“I wonder. Did I have a glass of bourbon last night, or was it the night before?”
There’s an image I want to use with this. A quick pencil sketch of a pair of eyes staring into a glass. Just a few seconds to draw, but striking, I think. But my computer freezes up with images. It’s fifteen years old. There is certainly no image manipulation software, none that will work well. Not at my memory size. So it’s back to basics.
But I am stubborn and brilliant so, at midnight, you have your eyes.
Pencil. Light Table. Paper laid over paper laid over paper tracing the line of movement. Nearly identical image time over time. Like a meditation. And the mind roams free as the hand follows line… And I think of stuff.
There are 1,975 people living in shelters in the city Halifax where I live. This is a country that prides itself on it’s social services, it’s humanity. No one should be homeless. Has the system failed? Apparently so. Our system is more interested in providing loans for big business than providing for its needy. But I digress.
I could easily be one of those people living in shelters, and it scares the hell out of me. I’m an artist. I have been travelling and then raising children for the past twenty five years, and some experience acting, writing, directing, film making, making music. That’s my resume people. I don’t know what to do with it.
Except I have this project.
There are people who need a voice, people who are searching for meaning, seeking for their place in the universe. The intellect is only a mirror for the soul, and we all have the same fire, needing love, searching to fill our loneliness. I’m one of those. So are you. Some don’t have the intellect and freakin’ voice I have, and I only have that voice if I can create something with all my attributes. I can speak for them, maybe…
When we look for meaning there is talk of “secrets”. Maybe our life would mean more if we were part of Something Divine. Maybe our souls are joined to all other souls. We live to work and then to die and then all we did is meaningless? Why does human life have value? Why does our lives have value? Well there are no secrets. There is no time and no death, nothing except now, as I reach out on the internet. There are no ways to those answers except to smile at someone and give them a hug. And give them a hug, even though they are big and sweaty, and they will be happier, and so will you. And then you are complete and the universe is raised and spins on just a bit happier.
I’ll give my buddy a hug on Wednesday.
Well, hell, I can’t speak for anybody except myself. And maybe some people might see something familiar when they look at my films.
That would be a good thing. That would raise the entire world a bit.
Peace and love