Ebb and Flow

Clearly I nixed the Dickens script idea - for now.

Let's talk about today:

It's March 1st, 2011. Happy March, tout le monde. The sun is partially shining (as it should partially be in this partially-through-the-winter month) there is soft music and a dishwasher spinning in my kitchen, and the quiet of morning in a pretty town. I stumbled down the stairs just now to wash some dishes and make coffee in my pajamas.. and I'm cleaning each knife and fork and mug and plate in the usual, thorough scrub thinking about the dreams that I'd played through the night (me and Adrienne flying, me using a spoon to meticulously control the air and windspeed along the north coast) ...

It pissed me off for a second how little anything really changes. I was having a post-rehearsal chat with some friends last night and one of them said "MAN, I've learned so much this past month" and I thought about that real hard. How many months have we learned SO much, and then three years later we wake up washing the dishes realizing we're the exact same person we've always been from the beginning despite lessons learned and information gained.. experiences don't actually change us, they just pile on to what was originally there.

Originally. The originality of our lives, that gets lost in the current, in the moment, in thoughts of the future and hopes for the things around us.. but that originality, those seconds inbetween the hours when you're doing something like a few dishes staring out the kitchen window or driving home from a 12-hour day, or at the base of a waterfall you just jogged and hiked and climbed to find by yourself on a Monday.. that originality, that fresh, first You that was born and is completely insecure and ugly and naive that hides behind everything we do and think.. he's there lurking and we supress him! Pushing his head back underwater so that we might continue to Learn.

This is the Ebb and Flow of experience. Some days we're supercharged and fooled, nothing could ever be the same, and other days our original nature surfaces and we're fooled again, as if the Earth is the same wonderful natural but completely inaccessible thing it has been since the beginning.. Both are foolish, both mostly make-believe dreamworlds, and until that day when I'm stepping onto the stage script in dressing room folded, wrinkled, eyes glistening with the knowledge that the safety we pry ourselves from in order to crack the dragon and save us from the doom of banality (watching society through a paneless bittercold window) was not in vain, I'll put the quest to question.

Annnd, maybe that day will change nothing. Maybe it's just a fleeting fancy. Maybe I've already been there, maybe I'll stand there again. Maybe this is a life-long pursuit, the dragons keep coming, and Doom is laughing from his booth.

well,

There must be something solid in this windy world
and that angel who dances between the trees
will not disappear, but one day see me
waiting here so patiently
and on approach offer her hand
to hold mine soft, and steadily

There must be a day when the untouchable is finally allowed to be touched? Please?

or else my whole life is in vain.

We'll see :)

Migs