It’s always awkward starting one of these things. I feel a need to justify my choice in starting a blog. A need to explain myself. A need to answer that question, “Why the hell do you think you’re so important, that you feel the need to write about it and share it?”
I don’t want to answer those questions, because frankly, I don’t have the answers.
What I do have at 3 a.m., is a truly sublime painting outside my bedroom window. I am marveling over the crimson moon against the fading navy sky. Shit, it sounds like I’m trying to be poetic or something.
But really, how is it possible that this site, that really leaves me at a blank for words, only happens once in a while? Chance, luck, coincidence... it doesn’t mean anything?
Red. The sexiest colour on my palette. It’s the colour of passion, love, rage, anger; it’s the colour of life. And on this early morning, it is the colour of our moon. I feel like I should be under a blanket of stars with a Brazilian, whose name I just can’t remember, enjoying this lunar eclipse, not typing away at a blog entry.
Heck, why don’t I make it poetic? This more than appropriate morning marks the lunar eclipse, the first day of winter, the longest day of the year, my first blog entry, and my first day in therapy.
So here is my answer: I’m starting this blog as a therapeutic experiment. I will try my best to articulate and write out my thoughts in an attempt to sort out the mess that has been mounting in my mind for the past nineteen years.
samsara revisited, you are my analyst. I’m officially signing over the rights to the kaleidoscope, I call my mind.
