With the Winter Solstice a few nights ago, the longest night, I came to a realisation.
This is the transition. The dawn of my conscious journey.
The carefree naivety of my youth is frozen as a memory, and my creative awareness grows.
The tides have turned.
Humanity is evolving.
Creative freedom is granted to those who take it.
Tonight, the full Solstice moon travels overhead, hurtling through space at over 3,600 km/h.
Silently.
Causing the world’s oceans to shift.
Silently.
My Facebook feed is filled with status updates about how bright the moon is tonight, how amazing it looks…
Silently.
Not a creature can be heard. Not a bird, cricket, nor the rustling stir of a breeze through the cold winter leaves.
Staring up at the moon in all its lunar glory, I meditate. Eyes open. Aware. I spend a moment, forever, pondering everything and nothing.
Silver bathes my mind and flows on through the world around me. The crystal light carries with it an undeniably powerful calm, as it runs its fingers lightly over my soul, and then joins the earth in the night’s dance of silence.
The world goes on, time slows for nothing, the universe rotates around me with caring indifference, allowing me to dance with the energy it weaves.
I heard a beautiful quote tonight, “The pain of losing her has faded, the joy of loving her never will.”
We are blessed with knowledge, and cursed with knowing. Love joins the dance, takes grief by the hand and shows me the beauty in accepting all or nothing, in pushing away the love of pain, or embracing the pain of love.
As we explore this life and the moments it contains, do we shy away from pain, or do we explore love? We can not do both, as they flirt together in their eternal dance.
I was brought to tears tonight in a liberating moment, coming to deeply understand my love of unbridled creativity, and my own desire to share my art with the world. For years now I have sought the reason why I create, the reason why I pursue creativity. The purpose behind what I thought I wanted to achieve.
Tonight I found the answer.
It’s not what I expected it to be.
It was no answer, simply a different question:
If the only other option is to not express my creative soul, then how can I live not creating and sharing my art with the world?
As the years are passing, the journey of learning stretches on into eternity, and the path ahead is unknown.
Exciting.
As the full moon glides silently across the sky, fragments of myth and legend stir within my mind.
Thoughts of monsters, spirits, beings, desires, urges… craving freedom, clawing at the walls of the subconscious and ripping through the lace vale of story, bursting out into the night.
The stories started somewhere, the myths based on something someone has experienced.
A hunger, yearning to be fed.
A passion restrained, or a fetish unexplored, straining against it’s chains.
Interpretation is a magically mischievous idea. Do I let it bind and chain me, or accept the creative licence it grants me to push the boundaries of everything I have ever known?
The werewolf of my creative soul has lately begun to howl, pounding at my chest each night.
Tonight I set it loose, running free into the night, dancing with love.
Flirting with controversy.
Camouflaged in irony.
The mischievous Devil’s advocate in tow, pen in hand, ready to lend Yang to my Yin.
As the silver moon floats gently overhead, it shows me silent resolve.
The universe gives me an infinite moment to touch the crisp cold frost of my fear, welcoming it in, weave it into the glistening fabric of my soul.
It belongs there, alongside the sensual spark of love, next to the deep blood red of pain, in good company with the bright fire of excitement.
Together they form my spirit, my hunger.
My creative monster.
The force that inspires my heart to beat and my passion to explore it’s own existence.
Dancing with my werewolf under a Winter Solstice moon, I begin to write.
