“My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you.”
— Audre Lorde, “The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action”
It’s tight in my gut like I swallowed something whole and have been holding it intestinally, unable to will myself to let go. This grip has grown strong over long years of winding my way of being around and around it — a string of silences balled up, filling my belly with empty
promise. There is no ignorance sufficient to escape the elephant I fear, who walks within me. Obvious and unstated, pressing me out into oblivion, it goes its own lumbering way, without saying so much as, “So what?” Immune to challenge, my deep-seated diplomat swims the river of my life, daily drinks its weight, as I wait for my fear of elephants to dissipate.
I am mourning the words I searched my soul for in vigilant silence, which were found too heavy for a world so unbearably light. They would fail me and fall flat, as their gravity requires. Who would risk being crushed to catch their meaning? Will my writings paper the walls behind the dancing lights, the blue-haze graffiti we graze upon, blindly chewing cud over water coolers and what dinner tables have survived into this new age of reality televised to advise our communal ruminations and measure us into herds until there is only one? Don’t you get it? There is an elephant wading in and damming the river of life that would flow out of me, but doesn’t dare.
July 4 has come and gone again. All day my thoughts meandered through a muggy haze of irony.
Maybe it was the week of increasingly prolific explosions giving suburbia a nightly theatrical production of the dangerous conditions that inspire Syrian and Palestinian families to seek refuge so far from their ancestral homes. Or maybe Continue reading “Living the Lie of Independence”
I’m scared. I have been for a really long time. Reeeeaaally long. I’m scared because my heart is full of desires it seems my head just can’t fulfill.
I’m a grown man, but I fear I’m ridiculously immature because I haven’t yet figured out how to do the things I expect grown men to do, like provide for my family’s financial needs, create the relationships I want, and write simple sentences. Continue reading “This Is for You”
This site is an experiment. It’s an inquiry. As such, it would be presumptuous to pretend to know exactly how it will proceed. I mean I’ve made some decisions about methodology—airing my thoughts for you, dear reader, via this blog; presenting some of my creative work (more on that later); selling my services as an audio engineer—but the means are not the meaning. Continue reading “I Want You to Understand”
That’s the question I’m always asking myself. I mean literally always. Because of the way we’re enmeshed with our environment, everything we say or do evokes some kind of reaction—in essence, a “reply”—from the world. You can call it conservation of energy, or you can call it karma. I sometimes think of it as a lifelong question and answer session between myself and the universe. Continue reading “Who Am I?”