Friday, August 15, 2008

hiding the wires









overheard somewhere in the blogosphere:









..But I dig the managerial impulse. The elevated plain where the best people live, you know, the ones that make all the connections connect? Behind the scenes, above the scenes, they waltz around in designer jeans. Paradise, right? I’ve done jobs up there, fixing stuff up, hiding the wires, as they say. The view was great, but it didn’t elevate me seeing everyone else made small or low. I like my spirituality up-close and personal, below the belt when I can and strictly one at a time.

I’m not into mass baptism, conversion under fire and water from on high. I don’t buy the letter before the word, the word by hearsay or the real estate agent from heaven. I’m into one on one, face to face and extremely unplugged. You think the special light will illuminate? The wrong temperate will agitate? The sound of a thousand drops crystallizing for a nanosecond in free fall is any more thrilling or revealing than the slightest reverie, memory or bright idea?

That’s not spirit you’re buying. That’s spirit you’re selling, before you even know it. And you will never know what a slave that makes you.

I too have wandered in the daze and darkness of another buy-any-old thing, through the canyons of a Serra, looking for an art that’s fairer, only to wait amongst the throng and heed the curator’s broadcast song: “Are you in awe yet? Do you feel the force?” And as I formulate my reply, to the unseen way on high, I realize a tiny gesture of the hand, is all they seek or understand; that to say any more is just to signal one of us is poor.

There’s no mystique to the chic, to the clique at their peak, in the divine in-crowd at large, and condescending, by and large. So intent upon largesse, they pray for prey while they transgress. I get no kicks to complain - about the ‘ghosts’ in the machine and the works that lack my soul and the privilege of inheriting control. I do it for love!

I only give when the artist shows both hands at once on the material at once and not the followers at all. I only give in where use transcends, not transports or transacts, transfers or translates. I only give way on the wilderness, where nothing offends. I only give up on the wastage and the will to impress. I give more to the person, when we’re eye to eye and making more than amends. And I’m always in the market for angels and friends.

2 comments:

Picoletta said...

dude, have you been watching Mad Men and not telling me about it?
xo
sis

ps, calling you today--back home.

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