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Rant 1: the search for beauty, by ajdowd
Kalamazoo, MI US

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Rant 1: the search for beauty

Adam Dowdle
1-27-2013

RANT 1: FOUND MYSELF IN YOUR EYES REFLECTING ME

Every day we perform these little rituals that seem to make us feel whole. After the dreariness has washed away from our faces, that wax paper shield of the early morning hours resilient to focus and understanding, glass of water, shower, brush your teeth of the enamel and fuzzy substance that exists nowhere else on Earth, we make our way to that crisp black boiling substance of reliance. Wave to the neighbors on the way to work, where we find ourselves straightening our ties, garments, hair, make-up, and meta-organizing for the day. Hello Cindy, Chris, Jake, K-Moore! How-bout that game! The mundane game of life, soul-sucking through an airplane window as we travel for a more expensive ties profit to Dallas, Chicago, layovers in Miami, Cleveland, and back to Dallas. Hoping they dont smell the horseshit free shoes your wearing and are finally spotted. The outlier, out-lawyer, out-liar, coming to the gates with a new deal. All the while rinse, wash, and repeat from the day before. Are you done with that paper, nice suit, let me give you a business card. All the while dancing on the offbeat ¾ time signature of life. Flying above the trees to guarantee we dont come into contact with the world worth taking in. Faces pushed through the screens of our smart-phones, laptops, plugged into the wall, to the computer, press play, insert headphones and plugged into us like some bionic organism recharging with the aid of a wall socket. Never a second thought of whether or not we should stop to listen to the true beauty surrounding us. Instead we think were stuck on the subway with the crazies& at night, a labelists theory of anti-communication and understanding. Jump to the act of creating fire from a futuristic God-stick of metal and plastic until that sweet inhale of self-assurance finds our scorched lungs. Ahhhhh, fuck! What a beautifully displacing odor, the ugly head checks and second hand dead-eyed disappointed stares. Perhaps these strangers, these wrapped faces from the cold hiding behind warmth with their eye-lids frozen shut will show up again. Somewhere down the line. Hiding somewhere in the alley-ways lined with garbage cans set facing the wrong way from the curb out of carelessness will find you, asking you something more than the mundane; something more than that uncomfortable nod we give each other that seems to say, I acknowledge your presence, you may pass. Instead their eyes are the torch for your Marlboro, taking the anxiety and fear far from your being and leaving you with grace and bliss. Perhaps you never learn one-anothers name, breaking you further and further from the social norm of introductions on a more basic scale. Hal, Frank, Hello., Goodbye.. (Head nod and end scene.) Gardens begin to bloom in the streets, faces begin to smile longer and brighter like a comet versus a shooting star, to beautiful to last and too short-lived to show anyone else. And we become each other, exchanging personality traits, laughs, and intimate hidden moments. Hidden themes that still do exist in everyday life, hidden in shadow and denial, but though hope and promise we find an ability within ourselves to seek it out. Good things may come to those who wait, but great things happen for those who seek. These people are the torches guiding themselves through the forests on pursuit of light from the next day. Never hiding, but burning their way through the world, never flickering, but creating a chemical change to that which is evil and off-putting. The offbeat dance becomes a waltz, becomes a jazz routine, becomes a punk-show in a dirty basement made glorious by those who wish to share it, becomes a slow dance with the music blaring and deafening, but not to the world we know, but the world we created upon that comet we rode rushing through the stars above the world of the norm, the world of business travel, and watching expenditures for the next months trade rally, not the world of fax-machines, blue-tooth and face book. Instead we find this love in the world created in which you may become anothers hero because you want it, not for the power, for connection and belief in something true and tangible, something inarguable and bold. A world in which we find ourselves in the eyes of the others that found themselves in us.

Description: Coffee shop, caffine, cigarrettes, and a headful of angst, then i saw something beautiful, something true.

Photo Posted: Jan 30,2013 Photo Viewed: 461

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