Dance, monkey, DANCE!

When Ayn Rand wrote, “it’s not who is going to let me, it’s who is going to stop me!” she may have been experiencing a similar bipolar moment (of gr8ness). It feels that I reached this transcendent place in my Spiritual being that I’ve been seeking for years. One of and for believing I have a personal connection to the Universe (aka, God) through art. That this connection is it’s own Sick Sense, it’s own form of Spiritual Intelligence, and the sense we made of God in our youth when we sat around a campfire feels an awful lot like this.

Looking up to the sky, this “adult” version of God also still feels like a Universal mess. The Earth is a mess, even as I wake up every morning without a knowing what the fuck I’m doing as a Teacher. All I have are all these lessons.. and I still have to sell myself, then find more ways to do that exchange over and again.

Feeling like a dancer of the broken kind..I’ve reached this place, realizing all that is left to do with my gold at the end of this rainbow is to 1) get “better” and 2) sell mySelf. And I’m going to have to sell mySelf by telling stories again and again about being better than I was when I started.

Telling true stories, turns out (my) opinions are still radically different. What I have to say is valuable to the world, even if I do still feel like part of a Universal mess. Art.. is such a mess. So am I, even still.

Steph Bird