Forever Forming

With a steady breeze blowing off the coast, I once again sit with my 180° view of the world. A lone gnat crawls along the fingers of my left hand, while the remnants of a well established headache stretch out along my forehead. With a mix of cloud and sun, I sit outside after a quick trip to town for some tests to make sure I’m still kicking. I wish I didn’t have to make such a big deal about my health. But considering my checkered past with staying healthy, I should consider it a privilege speaking at all.

While nowhere as cool as my air conditioner the outdoors offers a bit of a respite from the noise of the TV and the phone. The irony isn’t lost on me that I’m using my phone to type these words. Still there’s a vast difference between the art you create and the trash you consume. But enough about that, let me appreciate the various shades of green I see through the leaves on the trees. As the wind quietly sings it’s song of violence and calm.

As a good friend once said, art is really the interpretation of what the viewer sees or hears. To take from it what they will. For I am only sitting out here an open vessel. Taking in what my damaged eyes can see. For life is what we make of it, rather you’re a planner or a dreamer. Creating what you can, for the creativity of man is fleeting. But the divine elements of nature are forever forming.