art. consciousness. sustainability.

Creativity is a stream of consciousness. Mine comes in streaks. Usually after terrible moments of dark sticky blackness. I can't stay that way forever. All I can to do is get up and dust myself off and walk into the power that is waiting for me when I stand up. If only I could recognize what shape that might take.

Sometimes I think it might just be easier to give up and die. Death, metaphorically, as in my mortal soul idly waiting for the transfer of physical energy back into the invisible if I accept a conventional fate. If I lived a life devoid of fire then my eyes would reflect a dull emptiness of the apathy I see among peers of a similar generation. "Owning my power" is something my friend Bonnie likes to remind me to do. My friend Julie held out her arms to rescue me across the blogosphere and responded deeply to my existential crisis. I ricochet across so much discontent I am literally numb to the pain, but simultaneously awakening to the acute stinging it brings that I so adeptly ignore. Yet, feeling is trickling back, thawing out and taking over at the seemingly worst timing in the world. I need clarity of mind while I tackle this final year of my graduate studies at Bainbridge Graduate Institute. Instead I find myself in a quagmire. Stupid feelings. I hurl that statement with all the petulance of a child. The ability to focus upon and quantify what ails my soul through teachings of leadership and personal development has been the panacea to self implosion in a hot molten lava sort of way. Or, perhaps a likeness that more closely resembles a tidal wave. Often I find myself riding the crest feeling the high of triumph and then literally and completely being pummeled into a skin bag of bones, crushed under the weight of the wave.

Year 2007 was marked by various occasions where the hook of this mantra slinked through my mind cyclically.

consciousness evolution in progress...

around and around at a predictable clip of frequency that used to be extremely loud in my thoughts has now slowed down to just an echo today of what it was.

I am looking to bring forth my own human genius in the name of sustainability as well as being there to support people finding their own. I lay my feelings down bare before you in testament to the depth and breadth of my feelings expressed in words coupled with the enormous gravity regarding the situation of the world and climate change. I hate this. I would much rather prefer to keep these thoughts of mine between close friends over the intimacy of a dinner party. Instead I am broadcasting them out on the web in a homegrown BGI folksonomy experiment. It is not what I imagined for myself, mucking around to encounter an entrenched path to freedom and peace. It is instead indeed what showed up. I can't say no. I can just pick up where I left off.

Life imitates art.

Living peace out loud.

Building a bridge between that which is divided in two.

MP