This video is dedicated to my muse: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vg7hlPJxli0
Update 2012-06-08: I have uploaded a better quality version to my Vimeo account: https://vimeo.com/43659882
Woke up to the rain in Cape Town, as if from a beautiful dream. Her last words to me last night echo and resonate in my soul.
Once again, the only person who can lift me up is Tenneale. My angel. Our words flew back and forth over the Atlantic and my soul sprouted wings. I am deeply in love. And determined.
The human condition. Something we hear about all the time. A vague and all-encompassing concept, referring to the common thread that seems to tie us to each other. Is it spiritual? Is it emotional? It sure ain’t religion. Because that has been fracking our love for each other since the god-awful concept was conceived so long ago. Or is the human condition just the fact that we are all so flawed. Fatally so, it seems. We can’t be happy. We cannot accept that things can be good. How often is it we destroy those things in our lives that bring us joy and contentment. Or maybe that’s just me. I seem to pick apart my fragile happiness at every turn. I believe I must live some sort of painful and lonely existence (like some fucking christ complex), much like that described by Agent Smith in The Matrix: the machines tried to create a world where humans were given all that they needed and desired, they wanted for naught. But we couldn’t live with this. Our minds could not deal with this utopian existence, and we began to pick it apart. Pick us apart. Until we became such low-energy bulbs the machines had to scrap the idea completely. So they designed a world where we were surrounded by death and destruction, where we were constantly reminded of the cruelty and illness of our existence. It seems necessary for us to feel alive. I long for a peaceful, happy life spent making. Be it art, music, love, or making my partner happy. I fear I have spent my life breaking. All the beautiful things I covet. Where will that leave me? Alone with my hammer, surrounded by broken glass and shards.
True grit. It’s what you need when setting off into the wilderness. Cos the wilderness is a dangerous place, perils at every turn. I mean, you could get your face eaten off by a naked crackhead! It happens. In Miami.
I started watching the Coen brothers movie this evening. Very good. But I fear the heater, blanket and cat curled up beside me were all too anesthetizing and I fell asleep. But I always fall asleep during long, drawn out cowboy movies. I think it’s par for the genre. Anyway, I’ll probably finish it tomorrow night. Since I am living like a hermit these days. Or I might go out and get drunk. We’ll see. The world is my oyster. I’m just missing my pearl.