Shades of Black Hole Sun

No excuses. I just haven't written. 

I didn't write when my friend missed a turn and rode his bike into forever.

I didn't write when my grandmother frantically relayed my mother's last moments over the phone, in real time. And there was nothing I could do. 

I didn't write when I fell in love, changed my life, and discovered how deeply roots can grow, or how far back they go. A not-so-pleasant reminder of how truly old I am.

I've been busy living, surviving, grieving -- and I'd imagine you're doing the same. We laughed at 2012, chose to turn away from the signs at every junction. You know - THOSE signs. All is not right and well with Life, The Universe, or Anything. 

Strange things are afoot at the Circle K...

If mine was an isolated case, seeing the doom in it all by reacting to numerous deeply disturbing life events, I would be inclined to believe my particular brand of bullshit was tainting my world view. But I see a lot of people in pain - a real, genuine aching for relief. And I'm finding a lot more in common with their suffering these days than ever before. It's a shared experience in pain and misery manifesting as "life experience".

Is this the way the Big Guy is playing it? Are we in the last gasps as the Great Serpent squeezes us out of the last of our fearful energy? Or is it both? The soul, some say, is immortal, and immune to petty corruption and physical discomfort. I'm not feeling particularly keen on the thought right now. This feels like pain, and it hurts to the soul. Maybe this is indeed what growing feels like. 

I feel deep compassion, but not for those the media parades about in tragedy. Real connections require more than pretty pictures and sound bites. We're realizing that the screen is in fact hollow, and there's no satisfaction or communication when the dialogue is one way. Simply ACCEPT, as you have no means to challenge the information presented. "See this? This is BAD. Don't you feel bad? Why don't you feel bad?" 

Ok. Just a little pin prick.
There'll be no more AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHHH!
But you may feel a little sick...

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As I revisit this draft, left nearly 2 years ago, I can't help but think of the title. Chris Cornell is gone. Black Hole Sun, indeed. Maybe he flew too close - wax melts faster in these days of high UV and white-hot sun. Bleaching out all that was bright and colorful. To quote Mudvayne, "In the space between a blink and a tear, death blooms."  

Terror is still on our minds, but with so many activities and distractions, do we really have the time to fret about the pain of others? Well, don't worry. The Universe makes sure we all keep a stash close at hand. Illness, pain, tragedy - hell, that's about all we have in common these days. It has only gotten worse since I typed those words above. Instead of seeing that pain is the unifying factor, we choose to invent new forms of personal torture to keep us from seeing that we are all suffering beings in a soup of misery. 

And that's ok. 

I'd rather have this bottle in front of me, than a frontal lobotomy. 

I'm ready to start dropping some art on y'all. Keep an eye on this space. I'm not tearing out what's already here, but it's time to move this party to a different venue. The ideas never stopped coming, I just diverged into a thousand different possibilities, and found myself back here. Make the most of what you have, or the Universe won't give you more. So, here's hoping for more in the near future. 

Be good. Be safe.