03 January 2008


I hear a lot of hype and ownership over the topic of spirituality, usually by someone who feels they are the expert and is trying to sell you something.  Sometimes they are academics with degrees and knowledge of the history of others that talked about "it." I promise not to use the word  "spirituality," again in this blog.  If I do, I will probably have an eight DVD set that will create friends, improve your sex life, give you economic security and make you famous in 4 easy payments.

The most mysterious and amazing thing is that you exist.  Isn't that what we are all bugged about?  If it is all one, why am I me?  Science can't tell me.  Religion can guess.  We just have to live with this astounding fact.

I'm comfortable with mystery.  I'm not a huge stickler for the facts.  They seem to stick for a bit and then fall randomly out of my brain if not used right away.  Most of my conversations are a game of charades trying to get the word or person or fact I'm looking for out of the people I'm talking to so I can continue onto my point.  Perhaps most things are irrelevant to me.  Perhaps I'm using external storage devices for my memory!  Perhaps I have a visual mind and a sort of dyslexia of the verbal.

I deal with amorphous ideas as a designer.  Putting emotional spins on common concepts.  I'm always trying to make connections between things that haven't been connected before.  The originality problem.

When I'm painting, I'm always trying to lose myself in the details.  The magic zone where the understanding of your subject is great enough that you actually start making nature itself.

Whole universes are blowing through us like wind.  Somewhere on the insides of rocks, somewhere in the twitch reaction of muscle tissue, somewhere in the chip of the cell phone, somewhere in the shape of a tree is "it."  Somewhere in everything else is the reason I exist.  Connect.

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