It’s a miserably grey day today. The world seems to be standing in a line to see the light, diluted glow. I sit on the 901 surrounded by the lethargic waiters, weighted by the time it takes to travel space. From slowly moving seat to encased chair. From a fiberglass frame to drywall demarcations. Who are these people? Do they do this to survive? To thrive? To make a difference? To make a buck? Their thick winter coats, black, embrace and protect their fragile physicality, but what protects them from the existential chill? Family? Hope? I know not. I, for one, am bolstered in my knowledge that the cup is always full. By my belief that the cup is also part of the whole, that I am in the cup, outside of the cup, and the cup. I believe in illusion and its fragility. What keeps you when the atmosphere presses on you like the moist palmed grey hand of fate?
Why is it so upsetting and shocking to us when politicians or those in positions of high power appear to go bad? That’s like being surprised your cheese has melted in the summer sun. There are really two things to keep in mind: one- leverage is the name of the game in politics, whether it comes through previous relationships, spin and insinuation, or… two- the messages the public receive has always been spun, either by political opponents, friends, or the inherent bias of the reporting agent. The thing is, they all do it in the belief that they are acting in everyone’s best interest. There is no “evil” agenda, just competing definitions of what is best. There are no impartial facts, information is always shaped and interpreted by humans, their comprehension and communication of events and statements always limited and informed by their own beliefs and experience.
We are afraid of our own mortality in this country. We spend way too much money and time trying to hide the physical signs of advancing years and we avoid thinking upon death until the very last moment. The fact is that we are fragile animals and many of us will not live past this very moment. Perhaps the fiction of immortality keeps some us of from the precipice of despair, but I would prefer to embrace the inevitable. I ask myself every morning, “If today were my last day would I be satisfied with my planned actions being my last ones?” If the answer is no for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something. Approaching every breath as my last, I experience the world around me with vividness. Your end which is endless is as a snowflake dissolving in the pure air - embrace it.
Does anyone else smell waffles?
Eric in a Word: pinguescence
Book of the Day: Moby Dick- Herman Melville (yeah, I know, but it's a long frickin' book)
Song of the Day: Can't Stop- Red Hot Chili Peppers
Sketch Medium: pencil, blue & black ink, coffee on found paper