Crazy is Productive

Today I had a conversation with a crazy old man.  He told me to get business cards and to never stop writing.  He said I need to send out my material all the time, and everything will take off when I least expect it.  He said that he could tell I was going to be big, and that my presence was a dead give away (p.s. this thing about "my presence" I've heard a lot, not sure what it all means). Now, people who say that crazy people don't contribute anything to the universe better eat their words--and I mean chew, swallow, and digest into acidic pulp. Talking to this man made me think of three things:

1. How crazy people probably have the most to contribute to the world,  because everything is abnormally unfiltered. Where their world ends and ours begins is a blur to them. Words and thoughts seem to come from a more unaltered source.  When you only have one universe revolving around your head, I'd imagine these people are lost in this universe, so lost that ordinary practices of daily interactions and societal pressures means practically nothing.  Crazy people have their own demons to deal with, so much that the real world around them is only a tupperware container for holding their own universe.  My point is that crazy people can contribute and be productive--just not in the usual manner we are accustomed to.

2. I really can never stop writing, and I do believe in my dreams even if no one else does.  When you do what you believe in and sweat and breath it everyday, other people start to follow.  How bad do you want it?

3. Women and professionalism.  When a women receives a compliment from a man, relating to her skill and talent, when is it genuine? And when is it because he wants to get in her pants and feels flattered by her attention?  I feel like this area puzzles me.  Is business talk ever JUST business talk?  It never seems to be so.

 After that man left, I began to smile, because I had just gotten a reality check about who I am, and where I want to be.  In all the things that have currently been going on in my life I almost forgot the drive, the energy, and the creativity I have had building up inside of me.  I need to keep my creative projects going, or my soul might begin to rust.  Never. I can't let it and I won't.

9/22/09

Ironic the desire that lies behind the unreachable.  Maybe desire always wants to test the limit of the universe, and the gap between the goal and the reality is the only alluring thing.  The gap is the seduction, like a mosquito to a bright light we lazily buzz, hypnotized, toward the light.  Sometimes at the end of the seduction, we find out the light is nothing but a barrier between ourselves and what we really want.  What we want isn’t really what the light means, it is what it represents.  

Sugar and Sun

Sitting in the haze of afternoon sunlight.

Yellow rays breezed through the vertical white,

blinding vision and kissing her skin with an unfiltered glow.

The idle nature of the cushioned mattress

and the daze of libidinal energy.

The shadow cast by millions of worries softened into

flecks of skin and caramel eyes.

Time lapsed like folds of cream and dough.

The smell of chocolate traveled from the stove to the bedroom in sugary bursts.

If the world was perfect, 

it would stay like this for just awhile longer.

music and musicians

I've neglected my blog for awhile now. "Money ain't a thing, but being broke is a B."- Definite.

Last night reminded me of who I am and what makes me happy. I went to a showcase that wasn't exactly one of the best (I'm putting this mildy), but I enjoyed just being there because I was surrounded by people who write their own music, make their own lyrics, and have their own stage presence...some had better presence than other.  Thing is, each person was out there doing their thing, producing something creative and letting it be known to the world.  As I sat in the artsy-fartsy outdoor patio of the "bohemian shindig," I watched the artificial light casting a yellow glow on the performers and wondered what it would be like to feel adrenaline pulsating through my veins and the sea of emotional angst as I took the stage. Musicians cross a powerful and fragile line.  The vulnerability of exposing your inner thoughts to the world, the vulnerability of commanding a stage where people are more ready to criticize than praise--the power in possessing that stage, the power in owning every chord progression and lyric, the power of swaying a crowd into the mood and ambiance of the song.   Yes, I fantasized a little about what that would be like, I have since I fell in love with music at a young age. I find myself trying to be surrounded by these type of people.  I'm a lover of music, and I appreciate the craft as well. On the way back home, a  friend showed us his new music.  And then proceeded to rap out the lyrics. I knew at that moment that is exactly where I was supposed to be, and I hoped that I never ceased to be surrounded by such a thing.