(Un momento...)

jueves, 28 de agosto de 2014

Friends in the Dark

At times, life gets you down. Maybe you aren't where you thought you would be, maybe something good is over, maybe the world just isn't being kind today. I think of those times as being in the Dark. In Darkness, you only have your voice and your mind to talk to you, and that can get pretty horrible in short notice.

That's why you get friends. No one is born alone in this world, we all have people out there, even if we haven't met them yet, who can and will be true friends to us. People to share the Light, in good times. To shine in the Dark, in bad ones.

These people come in so many flavours that I can barely count them all. Very, very few people can get you out of the Darkness (That's your job, mate). Good friends recognize that fact, nod and then completely disregard it and try anyway. 

Some friends bring you candles and sit with you for a while, bringing what they can of Light with them. They look at you and share beautiful things. They eventually have to leave, of course, when the candle runs out, but they smile and say "See you soon". And soon, they are back with another candle. These friends are reliable as bread, as air, as the sun rising every morning. They warm you.

Some friends, fewer, suddenly come in with wood and coal and noise like thunder, smile wildly (even madly) and light a bonfire. They come, alone or in groups, and hold out their hands while laughing. "Get up", they say, "The Darkness is taking a break tonight. And if she has an issue with that, tell her to take it up with us".
They light the bonfire and make you dance and sing and do a million stupid things and, until the bonfire falls to embers and ashes, draw a line against the Darkness and dare her to come forth. Of course, the fire eventually runs out, but you do not stop smiling the whole time. They leave, then, and promise to come back soon. It will never be as soon as you want to, but they will come back. These friends are like lighting and thunder and a single, perfect step. They blaze like fireworks for as long as they can. Sometimes forever.

Finally, some friends (very, very few of them) bring no light with them. They come alone and sit in the dark, back to back with you, and listen and say small words at the right times, or tell you a story that has nothing to do with anything, or just stand in the Darkness with you. These friends are like the silence after a storm, or the steadiness of a mountain, or the crystalline beauty of the moon. They stay around for a night, or a few hours, or a single, magnificent sentence.

The beautiful thing is that people can be all three of them. All the time. A steady guide, a blazing flare, a quiet strength. 



(I tend to give as much credit to the whole "Darkness is Evil" thing as to the more widespread "Light is Good". Both seem like so much dandelion fluff to me. Light is light, and Darkness is darkness. Nothing else. Today, I'm making an exception for the sake of writing, meaning that the whole metaphore falls apart otherwise. Please bear with me.)

miércoles, 27 de agosto de 2014

Art


I love Art.

I love music and dance and drawings and paintings and photography and sculpture and animation and the way some people can spin feelings and thoughts in canvas and paper and strings and voice and partitures and a single, well timed step.

I envy all of you with a passion. I crave your voices, like silver trumpets, your rhythm, like the rain falling, your hands, steady and sure, your minds, focused and knowing, your instincts that see beauty in the marble when it's still just a block of stone.

I have none of that. I couldn't carry a tune if it had handles, I couldn't draw a straight line to save my life, I couldn't make a stick figure move with a see-through. I can't take a half-step to music without looking utterly ridiculous.

I do not have an ounce of Art in me. That fact has haunted me for as long as I could conceptualize music and drawings. I still dream, sometimes, that I can sing, or play, or dance, or draw, or animate a good story. But I can't. I would give my hand to be able to sing, or my voice so I could draw or animate the stories I imagine when I listen to music. But the world doesn't work like that, and I've made my peace with it.

But that means all of you have to make it up for me. Draw, paint, sing, play, dance, render. Create. Fill the world with a thousand thousand beautiful things. Make epic, sad, lovely and fantastic stories.

Those of you who can see the Light outside, take a piece of it and bring it to the Cavern for those of us in the Darkness.

Go.