Tuesday, September 09, 2008
THIS IS NOT A PIPE, PART II
Fresh green scenes sprinkled with colorful highlights of animals and flowers fill my bowl with fresh natural potential for the light of curiosity to ignite the imagination with images drifting in the breeze as I draw from all that has gone before and vent all that does not remain. Spontaneous symphony of humming birds, grackles and dogs mark the variable tempo to the ballet of zephyr stirred saplings, dew drop dipping butterflies and constantly curious cats. Admission free, new performances all day every day, never the same, always enlightening to realize it has yet to be written or rehearsed.
Floor sweepings and shredded agribusiness products sprinkled with addictive pharmaceuticals fill this assembly line rolled joint with a filter on experience that, when lit upon, winds down the generators of curiosity and focuses imagination on strategies to deal with this all too explainable creation as I draw from all the cars that have passed this corner and cough up the particulate matter. Scheduled close order drill of profit stirred suits racing between their air conditioned cubicles and cars, constantly needy shoppers looking for some thing to make it all better and poison farting machines making it worse all marching to the monotonous cadence of the traffic light, corner clock and ambulance siren. Admission costly, no performances (it’s supposed to be the real world) ever, always more intolerable than the last time, always depressing to realize it is the result of constant rewrites by geniuses for an audience who have been educated out of their ability to think without words.
One of the forgoing experiences is of a product, the creation if you will, made out of the other. This is not a pipe. I cannot believe in this creation even though it may run me over way out here in the relatively unwritten scene. Still living too close to the plot.