there was a short moment before i had to rush out to begin the work day, in which i could settle myself on the couch facing the whole of the first floor all the way to the kitchen and via the windows- the backyard. it was a rather unusual moment because it rarely occurred, this rarely existed. it's a moment that i speak of with passion, a moment of consciousness, when you step out of routine and wake up, much like the first glance of a wild new born. i saw the house, the bottom floor of my house- as it is- and how i realized i havent been able to see it in a very long time. it was this vision of truth, conscious, objective truth, that unsettled me. the contours and objects of the first floor, of my house, were intriguing. the piece of wood that framed the entrance into the dining room, the clock on the wall in the kitchen, the breath-taking denseness of it all as you settle your eyes on one object in the middle and the rest come crashing down upon it. all this, this is me. this is my face. this is my body and my self and my life. my actions. everything has been pushed aside for routine. and i realize how the eyes can be forgotten, and the body, and the interaction, is forgotten for the lifeless routine.
an unsettling moment igniting ecstatic life- pure dynamic uncrusted unabashed living.
