Creative Constellations

I’m feeling flecks of creativity tonight. I know I should be practical, straight forward, maybe even specific in what I’m thinking, but words and phrases like golden aspects of amber, and magical hallowed mysteries call my attention. I’m inspired to close my eyes and let my imagination soar a little further over enchanted forests and foreign faces that symbolize cultured characters that I don’t understand, but want to.

I feel like I can get misunderstood in moments like these. In the artistic, and the wondrous. In the midst of abstract thoughts and conceptual after ideas. I know that even I get lost in the midst of theory and processing, but some nights it’s an entire atmosphere and there’s a moment for it. These are the hours where little else matters, but seeking and finding, discovering and observing closely and intricately. I don’t always write these things down, but I always explore them.

It’s like I have a million images in my mind and they all mean something, and it’s far greater than my own comprehension or perspective. And it takes so much time to sift through. Like a treasure chest at the bottom of the ocean, except you don’t have an air tank with you, so you have to trust when you open your mouth that there will be air to inhale. It’s either that or retreat, and retreating will never satisfy your instinctual curiosity.

It’s really hard to describe, but here’s the thing -- it has nothing to do with me. I feel like I’m just a guest and witness to all these layouts and possibilities. It’s more than imagination, it’s pattern and reason combined with hypothesis and philosophical plunder. It’s the study that anything is possible especially when it has yet to be discovered. 

It isn’t like this pondering is always shiny and new. Sometimes it’s just the idea that a path is worth following to the end. So, you better sit and rest in the midst of your pursuit. Other times, it’s the fact that you hold the key to where you’re at, insuring that nothing is an accident. It could mean a change in direction or a deeper kind of digging needs to take place. Either way, right now it’s purely exploration. I’m content, but growing. I’m seated, but moving. My mind is tired, but enjoying the view as I lay back and take apart the constellation.

So that’s where I am. I’m soaring through sand and dune. The drought means nothing, because the desert is endless and every grain unturned is another question to the next aged sediment. There’s history and future in every clue driven granule, and while the reflection is enough to saturate a lifetime of study, it can’t end there. There’s still present and future, and it takes a lot of patience to let it all unfold so that miracle and majesty can meet with calculation and consistency.