Naked in a bed…

TODAY is Monday January 11th, 9:22 a.m. here in the desert, and it remains cold. David Bowie has moved to the next level and digital tear drops flood every media, fill many screens.

I accept his creativity. I always say that creativity is born from a creative path bricklaid by others, but on occasion, there is a vision, a sound, a string of words, a click and whir of machine that spills from the vacuum, expressions that are nearly impossible to attribute to anyone prior.

Maybe David came from that place.

I think David came from that world. Indeed I think others come from that world, climb into ours and it is hard to accept them. They confuse us. They are out of step with our reality. Some will take them as just bad.

Some will see God. Some will recognize , but have idea of the birth of what they are seeing.
My personal theory is that no matter how creative you are, you will never be able to create something that is outside your psyche. You may never have seen a monster or passed a vampire or visited other planets, but you can perceive them in your cave, formed of other shadows, formed by merging images into different manifestations.
Some of use sit, staring at the wall watching the shadows race accross the back wall of our cave. David sat there with his eyes closed and imagined something maybe we have yet to perceive.
Thank you Delmore for the thought, Thank you David for the dreams.


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