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Sometimes you have to wait for things you really want;
sometimes you have to do all the hard work
and then sit back and be patient;
sometimes to see the fruits of your labour and passion
you have free yourself of any expectations,
so that what you put that effort into will truly count;
sometimes you have to leave things alone
and let things settle, dry, and be as they should,
like wet paint.

Everything needs time to cook;
everything needs time to come together naturally,
everything needs time to coagulate, be framed,
be bound tightly like the pages and cover of a book;
everything needs time to grow into what it is meant to be.

Different influences,
different sights,
different sounds,
different people,
different encounters,
make a piece of art,
make a creation,
make a life,
make a person,
and sometimes they can all be focused
into one perfect moment, or one perfect and amazing gift;
waiting for the right time can be all that is necessary
to pull together the dividing sides of a rift.

Having the will to hold on,
having the belief to not lose faith,
having the strength to carry on,
having the vision you rely on
to keep standing and keep going, can be hard
but when it all becomes real and tangible,
and you can actually hold what you have wanted in your hands,
everything that came before and all you had to do
to get where you are is eclipsed
and everything and you feel incredible, invincible, and great.

There is nothing worse than a ticking clock
that when you are waiting for the time to fly
moves slowly as if the seconds, minutes, and hours,
are not even moving at all;
there is nothing worse for the mind, the heart,
and the senses, than the time to think,
because sometimes you can think too much,
and you end up building and living behind a wall.

Counting down; seeing the next direction to take;
navigating without a map; making the choices
and embracing the mistakes that are not really mistakes
that you have to make,
are all a part of the adventure of a life-time
that is like Earth-bathing and Earth-gazing
a quarter of a million miles away on the surface of the moon.
The best of things are born into life slowly but surely,
meaningfully and poetically,
and we can all rest assured that phenomenal new adventures
are on the horizon, and are coming soon.

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When you think about
all the innumerable things that happen in life,
especially in your own life,
that all stem from a single moment of creation
that is beyond the control of anyone who has ever lived;
when you think about what you have done,
what others have done, and why everyone did what they did,
it is not hard to wonder, and it is not surprising to think,
about what may happen in the future-
however, we all forget that the future consists, and is built on,
the choices and the decisions that we make now,
and a combination of what we know for sure,
as well as the chaotic and unpredictable confluence
of the things that we come across and effect us,
which make us go wow!

Gravity, and anti-gravity;
Earth, and outer-space;
Strength, and fragility;
Confusion, and happiness-
two opposing sides of a single coin
tossed in the air, waiting to fall
and land on one side or the other,
and sometimes, depending on which way the wind blows
at a certain time of the day
can change the course of an entire life
and can move you in a particular direction
and can drive you in a natural way-
like the way that music can engage and drive
the heart, the mind, the spirit,
and the body of a dancer.

Wherever you happen to be at a given moment,
at a particular time in our life,
can effect you a great deal;
a writer, for example, writes differently
and about different things depending on where they are-
in a loud cafe, in their sanctuary at home,
while they are sitting down eating a meal,
listening to music in complete silence,
alone, or surrounded by people-
life effects a writer and their writing,
in ways that are always inspiring.

When you come up with an idea;
when you fall in love with something, or someone-
the idea, the thing, the person, takes over you
and becomes the most important thing in your life,
they become your life, and they become all that you want and desire,
and can make you feel out of this world,
but like you are even more connected to the world-
they can make you feel the happiest of the happy,
and as if you are walking on the moon in anti-gravity.

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A dandelion head bobbing in the breeze-
a common sight to those who regularly venture-out into nature,
and the appearance of which, I have to say, always puts me at ease-
is incredibly inspiring to me;
because, even though it is small in stature,
it reminds me of something greater.

Looking at the head of a dandelion, to me,
is like looking at a physical capture of the spark, the seed,
the beginning and the evolution of the universe;
looking at a dandelion, and holding a head in my hands,
evokes a sense of the delicacy of life on Earth, and beyond-
on our planet, in our seas, in the skies of distant planets,
in the constant creation and destruction of distant lands.

When you look at a dandelion,
you would think that you are looking at an explosion
that has been frozen in time-
that is because you are,
and to me that is what is the most sublime.

Dandelions- like galaxies, maybe even universes-
come in many different stages and sizes,
and within their biology dandelions have many beneficial,
necessary, and life-sustaining, surprises.

When you see the seeds of a dandelion dispersing
and being blown into the wind-
the sight and the spectacle is beautiful to see,
but witnessing it happen can also make your heart sink;
however that is the universe in the smallest
and in the most simplest of examples:
think of the universe as a dandelion in a field
and you will understand that what we see,
and what we believe we know about life,
are nothing but insights, spoilers, and samples.

A dandelion, in all its forms, is an amazing sight,
and its seeds are a reminder to me that creation goes on
like the stars of the night sky-
expanding outwards, and never going in reverse-
that is why I believe that if we are looking to call the cosmos a name,
we should seriously consider calling all of creation
“The Dandelion Universe”.

Out of the cloud of creation-
new worlds, new energies, and new life, arose into being;
out of trillions of unification’s-
derivations of the most powerful forces of nature
began to become self-aware,
began to evolve, began to leave a record, began believing,
began spreading everywhere.
Reflection led to contemplation, contemplation led to thought,
thought led to ideas, dreams, possibilities,
colours, colonies- of every sort.

Creative people always seek out creation in all its forms and guise,
those who love to inspire others
love to discover something that they wish they themselves had created,
and they live to be surprised.
Musicians listen to nature for their inspiration,
writer’s and poets listen to people for their muse,
artists capture a single moment, in hope of making it last forever;
but when two or more far-away, but inspired, artisans are brought together-
that are capable of creating unmatched beauty alone-
the ensuing explosion of creativity
is tantamount to relighting the big bang fuse.

When a philosopher meets a writer,
or when a poet meets a virtuoso composer-
when words, emotion, and music, become the same thing,
and impossible to be any closer.
When an amazing collaboration seems to come out of nowhere,
as an artist you become compelled and drawn to new horizons
that you were incapable of perceiving before;
when something that you gave rise to and nurtured
grows beyond you and takes on a new life of its own,
you simply cannot ask for more.

Out of an infinite crowd,
two minds can unify to paint a new landscape,
where both artists signatures are ever-present in their creation;
out of our distant relationship to one another,
can come a shared, unparalleled, experience,
and an epic collaboration.

What is in a word?
Where do words and names originate?
Is it all down to chance, the slip of a tongue, an accidental pen-stroke;
or is there a reason in there meaning, a pre-written script of fate?

I have always been fascinated by the origins of things,
people, places, words, and names-
first name, surname, country, city, animal, tree-
the varying causes that are close to our heart,
the reasons that we carry for why we are such a devotee.

The origin of an idea is of particular interest to me;
the first heartbeats of an inspiration
always break-free of my chest and always find themselves
written on the pages of my life in enduring ink for all the world to see.

There really is something to marvel at “the start”-
a whole set of new experiences, memories, feelings, and fascinations
that may lead to a partner, a friend, a change of life,
or a masterpiece of living, breathing, inspiring, art.

I believe it is important to remember, to learn, and to remind ourselves
where things came from, and why they came into being in the first place:
our names, for example; names can be changed,
but each has its own story to be told, its own path that you can retrace.

Everything has a heart,
everything that matters and that lasts
has an undeniable attraction and gravity about it,
because it came into being with meaning;
everything and anything that has a passion pulsating from its core-
a legend, a hero, a story, an idiom,
is a legend, hero, story, idiom, worth reflecting and believing.

I am an optimist of the future,
but I am also a lover and a cherisher of a what has come before-
I am always enthused about hearing why something was made,
and for whom it was first made for.

A true wonder of the world
is something that connects with the wonder of your birth,
and which still energizes, and creates, new life everyday under your skin-
a truth, and an insight into the entire universe’ existence, your life-
and our collective origins.

Guitar pick poised; baton raised;
recalling that first note and how it is phrased.
A moment when the real world stops and turns into ‘Wonderland’,
as if you are standing in a desert being consumed by quicksand:
that moment when you, your art, your passion, your love,
become like the hand that perfectly fits the glove;
that moment when you- the maestro, the architect, the creator, the inventor-
become a god, a master, a hopeful machine of a world with you at the centre.
You are the DJ; you are the conductor;
you are the one that everyone has been waiting for.

In the beginning you create the rules, and tease what is yet to come;
and while you have your orchestra and audiences undivided attention,
you take them back in time with you to the dawn of your awakening-
that time when the world was new, and you didn’t want to miss a thing.
But then you stop, then you face them, then you convey to them the truth:
you tell them what happened when you put the last card on your house of cards’ roof.
You resight; you reinvite; you rebuild, as if you were rebuilding the entire world-
you remind them that there is always hope, even after your reality has been unfurled.
You take them on a journey with you that seems to have no end:
a journey where you can be who you are, and you no longer have to pretend.

However, when the end does come, it is over before you know it-
the people who were so engrossed in you have returned to their lives and split.
Where do you go when your orchestra, band, audience, and fan’s leave:
back to your own words, music; book cover, or album sleeve?
Or, do you go back to where it all started;
back to where inspiration first imparted;
back to the beginning; back to the big bang:
back to the moment when you first played, loved, wrote, and sang.

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