How old were you when

The world exploded into colour and potential?
when your blood first pumped fire and unrealized passion.
through a heart burning up for people and places
like forever was happening in each instant.

That age when you

Explored the texture of life,
Like Atlas, trying to look effortless.
And dreamed in the day and every night
like an addiction to your infinite self.

What did it feel like

To believe without anchors?
to feel fury and love for the first time
like fascinating wounds proudly earned
recklessly explored with wide eyes for every detail.

Where did the time go

Like a river washing over sharp rocks
making them refined yet undefined
diluting memories with a generic flood
and dulling senses with every cold wave.

Washed up on the shore,
 we forget to swim,
drowning in depths,
 we forget to breathe.

So will you remember?

to respect old fires
reaching deep to pull at strings
before the heart seizes up in an old world
and you turn to stone in broad daylight.

Instead of lava burning on riverbeds
reshaping and expanding;
shooting up to meet the blue sky
and glowing every dark night.

“What is your definition of happiness?”

Shattering infinity and putting it together. 

–

Playing with toys evolved into playing with ideas. Reflection became imagination.

Ejected from the the mold, we were dropped into systems and structures, like finely forged insects suddenly trapped in resin.

Bureaucracy, rules, definitions.

Our destiny is to break them. Smashing everything we’ve ever known into millions of infinitesimal fragments that recombine into the unknown. We take what is, to make what isn’t.

We begin to see the vastness of negative space. We begin to dream.

–

The world’s greatest choose to drop from the sky to leap into space. The eternal pursuit of abandoning perfection. Completion as irrelevance. The phoenix burns alive so that it may be reborn forever. Self-cannibalization as existentialism.

Business has never been better, but we must be true to what we pursue, for that is what made us great. Steve Jobs. Christoph Niemann. Grant Achatz.

Relentless.

–

Seeking. Thinking around corners. Juxtaposition. Perpendicular thoughts. Squinting at the light, clutching in the shadows. Hunting invisible game.

Inspiration. A vague idea that becomes real, a curtain pulled away from the world, a stunning sliver of thought forking reality madly and beautifully in two, the old and the jarring new.

Uncontrollably wide eyes, heart shivers and mind smiles. Realization.

A thirst to change the world with an alchemist’s knowledge.

–

It’s 2:30am and I’m in the upstairs bedroom of a cottage in the Romanian countryside. It started as a single-room slant-roofed tin shack 30 years ago. Persistence.

Outside, thunderstorms are sending rolling thunder claps over the hills, lighting their silhouettes into perfect violet waves born violently in the pitch black darkness.

Electric impulses pump Vivaldi into my mind, launching a swan dive into the shadowy possibilities. All the shattered infinities are coming together, new ideas like dust settling in the rattling night.

(Source: Spotify)

“Jazz Kissa is a form of culture unique to Japan. They refer to coffee shops where people sit and listen to jazz played on vinyl.”

I remember coasting
on summer night roads that hummed in darkness.
with windows down and warm air rushing into our eyes,
whipping through our hair and brushing our faces.

I remember cruising
over empty highways under infinite lights passing. 
Like metronome rhythms for the chevrons flashing,
with that smooth feeling of flying in the dark.

I remember feeling
like we were taking a deep breath for the whole world.
Like the rhythm pulsing through speakers was a heartbeat
for our minds drifting and thoughtful in the shifting night.

I remember the warm silence,
woven into music that was loud,
I remember floating in blue-dark space,
cut fast and precise,
while our eyes flickered
like dreamers
in motion.

where is your mind -

is it lost over flickering cities in the blue-dark night?

Is it caged in ideas about wrong or too right?

Is it real foolish or brilliant or beyond its prime?

is it caught on ideas or just lost in time?

How is your mind -

So reckless in dreams and careful in life,

So petrified in love yet sharp as a knife?

So still in your eyes and racing in mine,

So eager to act yet standing in line?

My mind -

Is on your mind when you look about.

I wonder about your mind, and finding it out.

And if we dance, and you breathe slow,

Your mind is all my mind, really wants to know.

Your mind -

I think it becomes my heart,

that silly thing, standing apart.

It swallows me up, turns me to stone

with a burning core, deep in my bones.

And then my heart -

it beats, like a candle in the night

flickering fierce, yet soft in your sight -

throwing shadows on desire and doubt

shivering with passion while burning it out.

So

Where is your mind -

where is my heart -

and are the answers just questions

if they’re too far apart

And searching between will we get lost in what’s true 

wandering and wondering -

Where are -

you?

we stared
into silence
  
we tested
the night
  
we dared it
to breathe

it cut
like a knife.

-

deep into
minds
sinking
into dreams
smooth swords
breaking down
immaculate kings
swaying sleepless
with unfolded wings. 

–

we awoke
in the noise
we drowned
in the sight
of soaking
dreams glowing
high in the night
.
vision spinning
webs in the dark
quiet cacophony
an invisible spark
.
swaying our beds
with infinite sound
trapped in our heads
and looking around.
.
.
.
and quiet 

and deaf

the night

became us.
-

so we ran.

-
we stormed
into the rhythm
hypnotized
and head-on
we shattered
to pieces
against a song
and fragments
flew
like a sun
in the night
violently sudden
beautiful flight.

and in this rumble
like a rough hand
we trembled
like infants
covered in rust
shrapnel hearts
shaken to dust
-
  
we were beautiful
strangers
lost in a dream
shivering
and senseless
bursting at the seams
.
but
strung together
in an abyss
in an undercurrent
of tones
our heads spinning
and life brimming
out of bare bones.
-  
so
we became
light
we became
sound
alone and together

kaleidoscope beings
lost inside found.

Pack up, pack your bags,

it’s time to go

let’s catch a plane

it’s time to know

the way of the sun,

life on the wind

let’s get going

let’s begin

Follow, follow the sun, and which way the wind blows 🎶 // Last summer vibes, ice cap n’ all :)

Under a dim light, I think. I reflect. I am glowing in a memory.

Sometimes we find ourselves in a moment where a song accidentally comes on, and you’re far away and lost in familiar surroundings, when the night is quiet and the morning is soon, and we seem to be in a waking dream.

It feels like floating along a river. The room is a gentle journey. And you are going, going, gone, over hills and flashing nighttime cities and electricity through a charged dark sky. It’s all positive, not because it’s good, but because it just is. because it moves and we believe. Because if it’s alive it can be explored. 

Somewhere far away, now at 4: 57am, some dance floor feels like a dream too. Smiling eyes closed sway under alternating lights and warm energies. Probably. Hopefully.

Somewhere, a cab door slams, and a body sinks into old polyester cushions and an old car lurches into the sporadic night, while in that back seat bleary eyes gaze upward from a heavy head resting against a window that kaleidoscope glows with colour and people, foggy and thoughtful. And a warm soul feels cozy and lost.

Somewhere a smile arises from a dream, somewhere a dream rises over an idea in the night.

And here in the deep countryside I sit under a dim light. I reflect. I am glowing in a memory.