Traveling

Sometimes you just get in the car -- even a rental -- and go.

will.i.am says in a video (Visionaries: Inside the Creative Mind -- Music as Medicine -- Deleted Scenes), "Touring is the best thing in the world.  You get to see... perspective... where you come from, from a distance.  Because you really can't understand where you come from when you're always in it."

Dream while here (DHC's friend's contemporary barn in Efland, NC during the Fall 2011 Tour):

Or here (the beautiful Twin Turrets Inn in Boyertown, PA):

Or here (The Victorian Loft in Clearfield, PA -- see an informal video here).

And home, in its unfinished-flooredness, half-paintedness, lacking door-edness -- I have a deeper appreciation for it.

This going and coming, this transportation outside of self, and in again, and out, and in -- this stretching into the person you envision yourself to be, out there -- bridging, always, between -- here, and there.

I put on a pair of black boots and link arms with a forever friend and absorb the second act in the smoky library auditorium of someone else's pictures and feel completely, utterly, at home.

The home page of the library link above reads:  "Reinvention is the only option."

Sometimes you just get in the car -- even a rental -- and go.

Then, go get more.

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Another imperfect post, accompanied by:
Hospital (Andrew Bird) -- free download here -- from the Norman movie soundtrack
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Dear Creative Work

You have me up late and early. What day is it?

It's because of you that I both lose track of time and am more than painfully aware of it. I am sitting sitting sitting thinking thinking thinking and Steve Winwood and Andrew Bird are singing at high volume.

But it's coming together. I think that's what you're trying to tell me through all this stripping back / falling away. Been a long time since I've worked in this push-pull, suspended in interwoven intensity and numbness -- I can't remember again, what are we doing and why?

Wait, here it is, the back end, the fire, incinerating the excess so I can spiral UP.

I am hungry in different ways, but still think in Food. More chocolate? I need greens with roasted potato, onion, garlic and zucchini, tomatoes from Mom, olives, a small amount of feta, a splatter of tahini. An exchange of dark slow stillness for vibrant colorful havoc.

Hours logged on Skype, numerous computers hold all the words and pictures of what we've created and recreated, tools ravaged and discarded, new ones built. Money -- who cares? It's not a break you need, just more time in your heart, less in your head.

Get up and MOVE. The energy can't stay in one place or it hurts. Forget the mad scrambling spasms -- be the proactive intense laser movement you were built for. I feel the difference -- give me lean muscle, cut the fat.

We can only say the simplest things by pushing out the mess first. You, Creative Work, remind me of the tendency to sabotage when I'm poised on the brink of Breakthrough.

Is everything ready? Of course not. Get used to that -- it happens anyway. Stand in it.

Push it out. Open up. Begin. End. Maybe never. Maybe now.

You'd have me believing this is what life is really about.

I think / feel / see / hear / touch / embody that you're right.

***
What Deborah Henson-Conant and I are living / breathing / believing in / taking on the road:
Fireworks for the Creative Spirit -- including the Matchbox Version
http://www.hipharp.com/events/fireworks.htm

Wouldn't you love working with us to offer it near you?
http://www.hipharp.com/events/host-fireworks.htm

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Another imperfect post, this time accompanied by:
Arc of a Diver
Not a Robot, but a Ghost