The Canvas

Drawing by:  Alexandria Heather

What do I know

I have something

I have an experience

I perceive things

I perceive a world

sunshine, sounds and son

around me

There is something

Otherwise there would be nothing

there would be

the absence of nothing

how could there ever be non-existence

once one second of existence


there is something

once there is something

there can never be nothing

This has something to do with love

love has something to do with this

if we must belong

we must be locked

in a small room

adorned as we see fit

like a small house

with too many things

the same things

for comfort

If we make ourselves attached

to the earth

and the trees

and wind

and ocean

and animals

and breath

we must be locked

and the world becomes

a prison

of our own imagination

and what a beautiful

and confounding prison

we tell ourselves

like urgently hanging another picture

in between the two

that are already there

this is the best I can describe it:

there once and for all

was a blank canvas

there was a canvas

there is a canvas

a cosmic

4 dimensional

100 dimensional


there once and for all

was a choice

(because you are not aware of a choice

does not mean there isn’t one)

there once and for all

was a choice

-such a beautiful, wondrous exploration –

to put it simply

the choice was to fly

or to walk

and we chose to walk

and we must be sure

we must be sure

because surety is the only

thing we know

and if we weren’t sure

what would we be

(in that question lies the mystery, the furthering)

what would we be

if we weren’t sure

what could we be

if we weren’t sure

and so

we make our choice







and we become our choice

and from that attachment

everything must build

everything must be built on

that choice

on that surety

and that’s how the multi-dimensional



an ever narrowing


and we find ourselves crawling



and because we are most most spectacular

we make our confinement

our comfort

and we teach it

and celebrate it

We do this because we are so spectacular

so built for joy

and life

and experience

that we find smallest joys

in horrendous oppressions

of self

eventually making our world

around our foundation

even if it means

a life of suffering

we, our human-ness, we

always know there is something more

that we are something more

that we can be something more

that we can feel something more

that we can live more

that we can love more

that we can be ourselves

that we can be our life

our experience

we know this even and especially

when we don’t live it

and it is that knowing

in the face of contrary action

that allows us to suffer

and yes it is true

we are wasting ourselves

because we can be

and have


and we choose less

but wasting is not bad

it just is

it is a choice

our choice

to walk, to run, to fly, to mist, to explode, fade into the leaves of pink flower

or the folds of a lover, to dance with electronic sounds…

you see we have it backwards.

It’s about the canvas.

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