From the Notebook
I love when I start writing so fast my pen flies out of my hand.
Here are a few entries from my notebook recently. I always have a
notebook on me, and will usually pull it out at the most random times just to get
some thought out of my head and onto paper. Read on to get a feel for what Rock Meets Soil
is and why I started it. There are no rules to being creative; don't let anyone fucking tell
you there are. For those of you looking for a place to share any and all of
your creative expressions, you've come to the right place.
I love to write and take photos. I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm not trying to create anything specific. Usually I just start writing what's in my head. I never used to write or really create much of anything for a long time. After a pretty intense time in my life that I chose to deal with holding the deceitful hand of alcohol, I had a lot of anger built up that I didn't know how to deal with. I've asked myself a lot of unanswered questions over the years since that time. Anger and resentment have always been difficult for me to process, really difficult. The heat of anger is very foreign in my body. I began to turn to writing to get the shitstorm of thoughts, words, accusations, disbeliefs and regrets out of my fucking brain. At the time I felt I had no one to share them with, but they began destroying me slowly by keeping them inside. So I would just put pen to paper and write what was in my head. Expressing my thoughts through writing helped me to understand things about myself and life that otherwise would have been stuck in the depths somewhere. Almost all of what I wrote during this time was burned or ripped to shreds in the end, but I began to see the liberating power of the process. By releasing the stuff in my head and working through it, I could be free. Free from the burden of the past. Free to choose happiness. Free to do whatever the fuck I wanted with my life.
It took a long time still until I shared anything I wrote with anyone. It probably started with a poem or two, then the sharing of some deep, dark rambles to a close friend in hopes of finding that fucked up common thread of suffering that most of us share, but even more refuse to acknowledge exists. By sharing my story, my truth with other people, I could see a shift in them as my words stumbled over themselves, attempting to find meaning in the shadows. I could see that some people could relate, in their own way, but on such a powerful level. I think that when we speak truthfully about our experiences—the good, the bad and the ugly—and are honest in our reactions to life, any person that's listening can feel the emotional weight of a story and be moved by it. This is when I started to feel true gratification from my writing.
It gets better though. Sometimes, in sharing our truths and our creations, we move others so much that we inspire them to start creating themselves, which can do amazing things for those who may need an outlet for their stuck energy and/or creative spirit, possibly bringing more understanding and more freedom of energy, thought and choice into their lives. If you give a fuck about people, community and the collective conscience, you will see that by bringing more enlightenment and fulfillment to more people doesn't just better them, it betters us all as one. I want to see more people doing what they love and spending their time in more enjoyable ways. I want to see more people being happy more often.
This is why I created Rock Meets Soil. This is why I created a space where anyone can share anything, in hopes of inspiring others to get creative in their self-expression. Everyone has their own way(s). Maybe you write too. Maybe you draw or paint what's in your head. Maybe you create music with your thoughts. Maybe you concoct seven course meals with your mind. Shit, maybe you sew, ride dirt bikes, work out or do magic tricks. Whatever it is that you do to get that creative spirit out and into the world, do more of it. You have the power to create fulfillment in your life simply by doing more of what makes you happy.
We all have our own reasons for creating; some from pain, some from beauty, some from boredom. Whether or not you choose to share where your inspiration comes from is completely up to you. I love sharing a good story, but ultimately I just want to offer you a place to share whatever the hell you feel like. So, with all of that said and done, if you're still interested, here are a few short excerpts from my notebook since I got down to Australia about a month ago. They're random and possibly a bit thought-provoking. And maybe, just maybe they'll inspire you to send me something out of your notebook/sketchbook/magical brain of yours.
Why do I travel? Because it changes me. Because it puts me outside of my comfort zone. Because I grow as a good person exponentially faster than when I stay in the same place. Because it's fun. Because I make a million new friends and see how everyone makes their breakfast eggs. Why do I travel? To see things that I've never seen before. To test my own limits. To breathe. To learn. To explore.
I travel because there's something in me that comes to life in a foreign place, surrounded by difference and anonymity. I can remember every airport bar I've sat at before a trip overseas because I'm so present in those moments, waiting for a big metal tube to whisk me away to someplace I've never been before. It might sound silly to you, but maybe that's because you've never felt what I'm feeling right now. If you have though, you know exactly what I'm talking about. And why it's such an addictive feeling to pursue.
i can smell the air before i see the water.
from the top of the cliff i hear the waves.
mama mar wrapping me in her humid embrace,
permeating all of me and welcoming me back.
it's an embrace from an old friend,
warm and friendly and full of secrets,
reminding me of why i'm here.
i can feel the waves from the top of the cliff,
before we climb down to the water.
they're whispering those secrets to me in a language
i can only understand when i open my heart.
i can hear the words in those waves,
reassuring and comforting.
does anyone else hear what she's saying?
of course they do, but i know that in this moment,
she's speaking directly to me.
...to find people in life who understand that we only have this moment right now, and that see time as so precious that nothing else in the world matters so much as being happy, doing what we love, and surrounding ourselves with likeminded people who make us better humans. Being around people who know the value of experience, who have learned to love themselves only after knowing what it's like to hate ourselves.
There are five colored lounge chairs on the veranda; half of them are occupied. I'm sitting on a cushion on the ground. Bowie is eating biscuits in her high chair. She's possibly the most well behaved 15-month-old I've ever met. More chairs fill up as Simon & Garfunkel play on the speakers someone brought for the weekend. We share travel stories, immigration nightmares, how Toby brought the piece of General Sherman back to Aus. The whittling workshop is about to begin. There have been talks of pondversation, meditation, sports games and karaoke. There's a pool and the beach and a bunch of Macedonian hooligans that sang patriotic songs on the pavilion past 2AM last night.
I had this thought, reading Shantaram this morning. I saw Gregory David Robert's eyes on the back cover, and it got me thinking about how much they've seen. And how much my eyes have seen. And that set me off on a brain tangent thinking about all of the horrible, beautiful, perplexing, life-changing things that our eyes see throughout life, and how these events, people, places and experiences shape who we are in every moment.
What affects us most? Is it change? Is it fear? Is it love? is it beauty?
Some people never see a different landscape their entire lives. Others have lived many lives in one. And everywhere in between. Who's to say that one person sees more than the other? How can we judge the experiences of one life over another?
I feel this intense love for some people in my life. Not a romantic love, but a deep, unconditional appreciation for another human being. It's this feeling so strong of such gratitude just for being in someone's presence. There are some people who make life better just by being themselves. Through genuine laughter and honesty and enjoying each moment. By being silly and not caring about things that don't matter. People that have no problem just taking in time and slipping out of reality for a bit. People that aren't afraid to make a fool of themselves and show their true emotions and say what they really think. I want to keep finding more of these people in my life.
If you have anything, anything at all that you'd like to share, shoot me an email.
You can even post anonymously if you'd like. Or we can just talk.
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