"Security is mostly superstition. It does not exist in nature nor do the children of man as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing."
"Let there be nothing within thee that is not very beautiful and very gentle, and there will be nothing without thee that is not beautiful and softened by the spell of thy presence"
I like earth. It is a jewel among galactic marbles. We count earths rotations and orbits as a measure of our time. The movement through space, a cycle, we define as a year. Now, December 31, 2007, as we orbit, we approach the imaginary starting point so we may mark another year. We say Happy New Year here on earth when the circle is complete. This ritual gives us a sense of a new start, a baptism from the previous year. We resolve and create intentions for the new orbit. We want a better life for ourselves and loved ones. The new orbit gives us hope. We like hope here on earth. All the planets like hope.
Why is it when people speak of their religion their mind closes? And why is it when people speak of their spirituality, their heart opens? Why?
Last August, I found myself in the emergency room of the heart hospital in Albuquerque, NM. It is an interesting observation, wondering if you are going to die in a few minutes. I have visited death many times before, but never when I was not under the influence of something. Death does not look as friendly when you're not trying to kill yourself one way or another. When I was younger, it just never occurred to me I would live to be this old. I remember the day I decided to live. I am not sure I actually decided to live or simply realized I wasn't going to die. Which ever it was, I knew I needed a better decision making device, so I threw away the 8 ball. Suddenly, the days seemed much longer. I was awake twice as long as before. The downstairs part of my house didn't have furniture, so it seemed logical to create a miniature golf course. A year passed. I became a master putter. Bored and broke, I began to make paintings again. Almost two decades later, I had forgot all about death. A stranger to hospitals or being sick for that matter, I imagined myself as a marionette with all the wires and tubes attached head to toe in the throws of the unknown. In the last days of summer, I swim laps at the gym each day. I like to watch my shadow on the bottom of the pool as I cut through the water. I observe evidence of myself.
The second best place in the world to eat popcorn is the waiting room in the service department at Thunderbird Harley Davidson in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Mickey, a young salesman, spoke into the phone respectfully to the widow of a man who died an untimely death the day before. I licked the salt and grease from my fingers and tossed the crumpled white bag with red stripes into the trash bin. Mickey and I walked unnoticed, past mechanics with sprawled motorcycle intestines in each bay. Way back in the back, across from the chain link fence stood the dead mans bike. He had it shipped from Barnett's in El Paso. The only available olive green and black Nightster in the Southwest. Never ridden. I wondered how far down "Own a Harley" was on the dead man's list of Things To Do Before I Die. If he had known it was positioned just after, Die of a Heart Attack, I bet he would have moved buying the Harley up the list a little bit.
Batman Pancakes at the Frontier Restaurant on Central somewhere between the twilight's. The life map had a big X smudged with melted lipstick marking the spot. It's the kind of place where epiphanies rain down like spilled marbles racing for the gutter. As you pass the savant on the sidewalk practicing his favorite Tae Kwon Do moves, the florescent light inside reaches out like a savior. Radiation bathes your soul. No matter what you order, it looks like it has cancer. One wonders if it would have been wiser to wander the airport until the food court opened. Danielle breezed off to Canada to visit her new husband and to star in a horror movie. After three cups of warm black water with white sugar, Batman appeared. It was a sign as good as any sign you may have read about. Back out in the street an exchange of smiles glancing through the glare of the downtown night sky. Pulling away from the curb, Johnny Cash sang about being a sinner all the way through the best squealing u-turn the rental car had to offer. 60 and rising in a 35. Sucking the wine right out of the vine.....
