The Longing: In New York in search of the Muse

A passing moment catches the remnants of a long abandoned hope and drags it to the forefront of my mind. How is my soul configured to worry me so? I ask you, how is my consciousness organised so as to represent a failure dressed in such nuanced beauty?

A disappointment re-presented to my mind, with borrowed pathos and promise is now clothed as the Feminine and this quiet watcher in blue stands at a corner, at a parting of the ways. Is she; as the Muslim vendor, kneeling at 71st and Lexington genuflecting, striving to cross the rigid grid-lines of the city? And, in crossing the currents of cars and walkers, showing me another time, showing me in this arresting rhythm, another way, and so directing the day by a chosen necessity and not the given?

This beautiful watcher standing hidden, just beyond sight, has a familiar countenance; is she showing me something I have missed, offering me another way? Can I grasp the future offered and understand the significance of this moment, but how when this will surely change just as my perspective will change?

My silent watcher in blue guards something my longing is key to, open the longing and the well manicured symbol, teasing out golden hair I’ll find a trail to follow deep within, and notch to notch, I’ll move into something rich and strange, the only certainty is change. Look! Look!

“Those are pearls that were his eyes… Nothing… that doth fade,

but doth suffer a sea-change into something rich and strange.”

How does bitter regret become pregnant hope? When I create another beauty Рthe like of which no one knows? One that will stand in the world and not diminish, but rather grow in resonance ripening with meaning, a countenance  ever renewed and never turning away?

As everything fades in life we need some things to remain beyond time and we need them, as we inch towards the timeless, to wrest us from our “metalled ways”. Just as praying at a chosen hour in the midst of the city is freedom from the city. So, stepping into the creative stream and connecting to the deep within the self, lifts us beyond time, enabling us to create something which will speak to the deep in others. In this way allowing the spark to jump ‘full circle’ as Paul Klee once said.

I have never felt a more urgent will to create, New York shouts to the soul and the soul responds weaving dreams and memories into the drive for new life and experiences, this city challenges us to create something new – stand here I cannot, but move and create I must.