- Books, Literature, and Writing
Ode to the Creative Conduit: To Live The Dream
His fingers encircle the sun-warmed pipe railing; His feet firmly planted on redwood decking 30 feet above the hillside. Before him spreads the center of the entertainment universe: Hollywood…and its backdrop, the towering sentinels of downtown Los Angeles.
His home rises from a hillside, one of two leading to that most famous of signs posited in years long past like a tiara upon a non-descript peak, flanked by these two lesser hills that reach out like arms offering a nurturing embrace.
“Come to me,” they beckon. “Come to me and seek your destiny, your fortune, for I am like no other place on earth. I am magical. The land of Dreamers. I am Hollywood.”
It is here he found his home and determined to chase his dream, nurtured and refined.
“You are so talented.” “You are so insightful.” “You can make such a difference.”
The same songs had many voices. At times they encouraged. During others, they soothed.
Mostly, they haunted.
“Our time is so short, they are to be lived….”
But first, they must be realized.
How much is given them?
How much is given up?
Do effort and sacrifice empower and enrich?
His hands rub along the painted top rail. He gazes at the horizon, unfocused. There is but one thought in his mind –
What does it mean to grasp the rail from the other side, to trade the certainty of decking for the freedom of flight?
And what is there to catch him? The grass covered firmness of the earth three stories below? The great unknown?
Or perhaps the noose?
He’d fly free for a moment, then be snapped back.
And the dream would perish.
Dreaming means jumping. But jumping invokes the noose. And yet, it is the noose that keeps one from jumping.
Jumping, then, only happens whence the noose dangles
And there is no half-jump.
Jumping is committing… to blindly believe in the loving embrace of the welcoming arms of the Great Unknown…
…that can only be known…