When we create, we are affected by our creation.
For me, words are my special creature.
We all have a special creature.
They affect us.
The words I string together into sentences, to adorn my world with tiny imperfect pearls of oddly shaped ideas.
This I do intentionally.
As the musician creates intangible harmony to float into our being & the artist mixes color & light & shade to bring to life an image of what life is or could be or once was.
Perhaps our creativity is the the greatest proof of our being created.
Us, an expression of a Creative Being’s craftship, imprinted with an essence of the One who fashioned us from incompatible sources.
Earth & Wind.
Brought into perfect synergy.
For the first time.
I hear many people say: we are a soul trapped in a body, waiting to be released.
Others believe ‘soul’ to be an illusion, us being nothing more than inconsequential matter evolved into something which will perish eventually, encouraged to give ourselves to earth.
I am not trapped.
I am not inconsequential.
I was lovingly forged into being with imperfect love & insatiable passion, alongside perfect love & deep desire.
In an act of co-creation.
And (s)He who is the Origin of everything, together in a single miraculous moment.
A perfect moment.
My mother’s womb the potter’s wheel.
And I come to life.
As did you.
To conceive again.
Not to escape, one day, to a vague spiritual place, but to live, to feel, to taste – raw & real.
A bridge of sorts.
I look at my friend Neil Stemmet.
He is an author of pretty famous food-books filled with nostalgia & romance.
His creation has affected him.
He meets people.
Is filled with adoration.
And so, along 礼品之路 ( Lǐpǐn zhī lù ), The Way of the Gift, I see the Gift of Creation.
The Gift of Being.
More than a trapped soul or dust to return to dust.
The Gift of being the most precious infusion of spirit & matter, into a single genesis.
Affecting our Origin, as we are affected by everything we originate.
In every moment.
Co-creating with Divine intent.
As even our words call to life.
Fresh new contrivances.
Alongside hopes & dreams & desires & dissapointment.
Not only in exceptional achievement.
In mundane routine.
A cup of coffee.
A humble meal.
A lesson taught.
A book written or read.
A melody composed or consumed.
A desire answered or denied.
Unable not to create.
For we are gifted.
Each one of us.
With the Gift of Creation.
And so I hope & breathe that somehow we will be a little more aware.
Of the beauty of our Creator.
Of the beauty of our creation.
And the exquisite beauty of its affection.
For affection is never meditated.
And I am glad.
And the affection of all which flow from me.
This existence a little less banal.
Wonder filled, indeed.