ANOTHER BURST OF CREATIVITY

[Roll with me one more time, but please read the previous post before this one]


Pierre was looking for love. That's why he left that town. His mother knew it. She never said it out-loud, but she knew her son. How he lingered at that door after company left, hoping they'd go home and long for intense human interaction as much as he did. Or how whenever it snowed he go back and forth from the radio to the front window. Excited by the possibility of stranded motorists who would relinquish their everyday guardednes and allow a complete stranger to pull them from the shoulder of the road, then walk off into the blinding white forever. Or how whenever he met a new friend, he'd offer his undivided attention so much so it unnerved the recepient who would back away and eventually never show their face again. He acted like friendship, human bonding, was the sole reason man was dropped to earth. Yeh... his mother knew. And she also knew he was in for a complete surprise. Because nobody, not nobody, was interested in love like that. Sexual love maybe. Aggressive lust and psychopathetic orgasms. Romantic love even. As long as the object of desire was close to what society deemed perfection or tradition. Or even friendly love. The kind of love you get in church on Sunday afternoons. Cloaked in scripture and witnessed just once a week. But real love. The kind Pierre left his town for. Love shaped by soulful expression and intellectual curiosity. Love defined by its lack of boundary. Its willingness to embrace the inadequacies and perfections of somebody without the impulse to spit them to the floor. Real love. Ordained by something the Universe conceived. Where the soul and the sex and the mind and the heart look for ways to bring meaning and depth to any interaction, any day of the week. It's highly likely Pierre didn't know any of this, or the consequences and truths that sit at its center. All he knew is that once he found it, he'd look for ink or lead and sketch it on paper.

Until next time,

Keith