Unfurling

Old blog snippet 6 – written on October 21st 2018

As Isaac by Madonna played on the speakers, I stood in the middle of the studio floor with my fists and eyes closed. With my head revisiting a summer night I sat up with the uncontrollable weight in my chest, sobbing and gasping for breath as my heart made a ruckus. I stepped out of my head, my heart, my body and watched her. “Who’s is it this time?” “Not mine for sure. He’s in pain.” “And now you are.” “Yes.” As I questioned the point of the subtle chords of our existence, the intermingling of purposes with the intertwining of journeys. The complete awareness of shared suffering and the complete ignorance of it in the same shared spaces. My hand lifted nervously trembling. My legs rose up on their toes whilst gathering the courage to extend forward that same chest that had withered in pain, this time in expanding love. Reaching and contracting. Swaying like curtains on a hail storm day. With every hair on my skin standing, with the sound of my heartbeat in my brain. It was like tasting freedom in cold blooded fear. Like moving with all that weighed us down and shook our beings. Tossing my head in circles, my back like high tides. As I opened my eyes, my vision still rested inside my head. All I could see were blurry hands clapping. The noise had flatlined and I stood there wondering, “What have I just done? What are our elements upto?” Look at what has become of all of our suffering. I’ve somehow turned it into art… and so will you.