The following is from Sunday Scribbling’s prompt: Passion.
Passion can be what drives me into the zone – that timeless, limitless, spaceless, bottomless, topless place where dancing never tires me. I am thumping on beats, floating on notes, writhing on rhythms.
It’s when I’m brushing thick, gloppy oils on canvas, almost unaware or maybe too aware… so aware that I am in the medium, I am down in the paint, swimming in the pigment – in cobalt blue seas, saffron meadows and azure skies.
It’s when I’m chopping, stirring and whipping as the aromas of garlic, olive oil, tarragon and thyme rise.
It’s when my writing fills the screen – one letter joins another, becoming a word. Words seem to almost link together by themselves, they flow quickly, becoming sentences - making nearly virtual what pours out the grooves of my brain.
Passion is what once drove me in my crazy-youthful-chaotic years to live in LA where I knew not one soul and the only thing I had was my 1950's amoeba shaped coffee table and my naiveté. It’s what had me dancing on tabletops, moving through every LA area code in a year.
Passion was once the only thing that fueled me.
Then I introduced my wild, insatiable Passion to logic and – as if pouring my fuel it into a funnel - I began driving myself in specific directions, sometimes getting lost, sometimes running empty…but it always there -
It was in my newborn daughter’s eyes, in my hope for her future, it’s what kept me going in those sleepless baby days-blurred-into-nights of crying, rocking, feeding; it’s what kept me up late over tear-stained homework and flashcards; it’s what let me be the “only parent in the whole world” (or so my daughter told me) who would dare create rules she found ridiculous, even when I was worn out from enforcing them.
It's what drove me to start a business. It's what lets me think it's a good idea to write my words in public. It’s what drowns out all the other voices so loud they become visible, like those cartoon word filled caption bubbles - from message boards, talk shows, and repetitive advertising to allow me to stick to my beliefs – no matter how hard, how unpopular, how un-trendy they may be. Passion is what makes life, to me, more than about surviving. It’s a flame illuminating what’s truly important to me. In the end, all I’ve got, beside the love of my family, are my principles, my philosophies which I've developed like a very slow Polaroid from a lifetime of experiences, experiences I’ve come by often due to my PASSION.
Okay, now that I've taken myself way too seriously...
*I think I'll blame PASSION for those times when I do things that aren't always sane. For instance, in the photos below (taken at a friend's wedding) I was spinning on a slanted lawn (in my four inch BCBG platform shoes, may I add) overlooking the Palos Verdes coast. I was a little giddy from sunset and the music playing in the background - all fueled up on passion and little sense - I spun right over a hedge and landed on my head. (photo 1: me spinning/ photo 2: That's my foot sticking up over the hedge). It's not pretty, but passion got in the way and, of course, my husband was there to capture it on film. Hey, it's life and I'm still learning. This is what I learned: spinning on a hill in platform shoes - not good.