In the luxury of time, to do 'my own thing', is the sickness Buddha warned me of. In the quiet paradise of good children, a beautiful home, and unbounded prosperity is the binding of fear... Of street wise experience... hard nosed memories of brittle moments crumbling around my feet.
I want to move toward physical manifestation... magnificent moments created in digital subtlety of color and light... Blended stories humorously woven in depth of character and solid insight.
Would an Intel Mac, Canon camcord, Firefox, and massive storage be the christening of a sail ship... allowing me endless island voyages with bellowing canvas and sunny skies... or will I sink with the weight of a battleship, an admiral unwilling to face the new tactical efficiency of terrorists?
Do I think too heavy, when I think High Density, or am I allowing for a bolster of fire power, added ammo against the bastille of my normalcy? Spell check permits me to write well enough to be understood... perhaps today's digital technology will help me find the visual voice I surrendered when I left New York.
To allow that flow again could be transformational.