We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad.
—Jack Kerouac, On the Road
—Jack Kerouac, On the Road
things slow down. the air’s thicker
The Memory of Fountain (L’uomo d’acqua e la sua Fontana)
the Song for Rain
1957 Mercedes-Benz 300SL Roadster (R198)
Georges Barbier’s fabulous illustrations - 1920’s Illustrations Golden Age
Art Deco was the peak of elegance.
I think we grow up because we let go of our questions. Somewhere along our years we accept something less just to accept something at all because maybe that seems easier and maybe we can rest just for a second. But I think I’m more tired now than I ever was and you know, what questions were there that I let go that maybe I never found an answer to - maybe just got wrong and went on, because today we think its better to see a million things than understand one. Better to know a million people than to love just one. Better to own the stars then ask what do they mean to us, and has the sheep eaten the flower?
Why is it so hard to stop and love - to single out and care for. We think one thing or another about it and the next moment its lost and we continue. On to bigger, better things… we think. What of it, there will be another. And we never know - we never know - never care - about those things that were not, but its those moments we pass that become our shadow - the crutch to who we think we are. The things we chose not to understand give power to those that we do. Those that we are too afraid to love give permanence to our sadness. And at what cost! It is not relativity - it is an absolute. The absolute of human being. Because try as we might we cannot deny that we are more than just flesh and blood to give and to take - it is the height of our love and the depths of our pain that make us real. So why do we not find them? How do we suppose to find them - to know what they are - when we chose not to wonder? The road goes on, but that does not mean it is going somewhere.
What is it that itches the soul to move? The creature that tickles our senses and blinds our heart. We move on with our matters of consequence - seeking ever more to rule, to bank, to drink, to forget… Caught up in keeping our flame alight, we do not stop to enjoy the light that already is. The light that always is. The light that He gave us - not just in the day, but to illuminate our souls at night with hope - with conviction - that tomorrow might come. We cannot love the day without the night. There’s no sunrise without there being shadows to uncover.
I think I’d like to see a sunset and love it. I think I’d like to see the stars and laugh. So I’m going to keep questioning and try just a little harder to not grow up.