...keep me in your heart for a while
It is both my end and my beginning. It encompasses everything from the raw physical understanding of my surroundings to my incessant mental and spiritual palpatations. It is my hope that whatever it is, whatever it becomes, it will be the purest, most simple expression of all that has struggled to escape my thoughts.
To be constantly approaching something, but never quite reaching it. To see the city in the distance, watching as the skyline fails to grow, as it seems to never get closer. To know what it is at a strange, emotional, visceral level, but never be able to articulate its essence or even its form.
The faith in its eventual manifestation is a constant comfort. That when it comes to being, it will be the film that we all mutually understand in wholly individual and unique ways; it will be the song that is sung in messy unison at the bar, conjuring up distinct memories and colors for each individual participant. It is shared experience that grows out of the desires of the individual.
It has the simple power of the well-timed chord change that makes a tune worthwile, or the trick of the camera that makes your heart sigh.
So I continue at a pace both uncomfortably slow and unceasingly quick. Seeing always in the fore of my vision the expression of my being coming to life, waiting for an indication of how to express that which I need to express. That which every fiber of me longs to express.
And I wait.
