| The
Column is a monthly feature that explores the world
of creativity and aesthetics.
Live To Be 100
"I'm looking forward to living
well past
my hundredth
year". My words were met with a scowl
and a quick retort "Mike, you've
got problems, get real - how
many people do you know who live to that age?".
I didn't
respond
apart from saying I
thought that a negative frame of mind.
There
will be those among you who share the need for
a reality check. Look at the facts, accept your
lot in life, fall in line. The exchange was an
example of two very different worlds colliding
like a wave to shore.
There
are so very many things I wish to do on my first
leg of the journey. Places to experience, people
to meet, movies to make, buildings to design,
music to compose,
books to write, poetry, paintings, photographs,
sculpture, ceramics, digital artwork, multimedia,
and much, much more that I have yet to realize.
One hundred years is nothing like the time I
need so I have no option but to aim for
far longer.
My
outlook is positive, my hope, unreasonably optimistic.
I see endless possibilities in the future. I
resist the life of the ordinary which requires
we act out a play that stifles creativity and
makes us small. I see no inevitability in the
path we tread as to do so would be to leave
hope, that most human of qualities, behind.
To
explore my creative
potential requires my willingness to be ethically
unconfined. I do not follow any particular dogma
to that end, and my action is imperfect. There
are many times I loose my footing, stumble awkwardly,
or fail to be true to something more than myself.
My need to connect the world I experience to
yours is however ever present, and
it is that need to express some small part of
what I faintly know as a greater whole that is
at the heart of my confidence in a long and fruitful
future.
Where
Wave Meets Land
Where
wave meets land and sky to sea,
When rush of water sweeps beneath
The pull of
current folds ten thousand pebbles one against
the other
Pushed then pulled in movement strong,
Rolling swishing swarm embrace the pebble strangers
that the force of nature found,
Shells and seaweed, wood and float,
All are close as crashing water white with
spray,
A
fish's fin darts near,
And
for the shortest moment that the eye can stay,
You see the fish as he does you,
Dive
once more to
battle and enrich sea immense compared to such
a tiny life,
The great and wondrous aqua blue.
Feedback
AbleStable® welcomes
feedback on The Column. Go to Feedback,
complete the form, and make your views known.
|
|
|
|
