High Fidelity

 

Hey, guys and girls. Welcome back to Amid Night Suns. This is just a quick post to share my latest video from my YouTube channel, The Oldest Magic. This one discusses adventure, romance, storytelling, and all the connections therein. I hope you get something out of it. I really enjoy doing these pieces directly to camera. I feel like I’m just chatting with friends, and it’s a nice change from the free verse stuff I often post here — or the more elaborate, time-consuming video collages I love to make. So, I’m going to try to post more of these conversational videos moving forward, as and when the muses move me. Anyways, I hope you’re all keeping well. I hope you’re out there chasing adventure, romance, and meaningful stories... whatever that means to you personally. I wish you nothing but love, autonomy, and magic.

Love, Always

 

Never is a frightening word. Especially where loved ones are concerned. As a boy I used to think that word held great promise. I still do, at times. But my thinking has evolved. Experience and maturity. I used to think I could hold all the joys of childhood suspended in a single breath. In the atemporal imaginings of a psychic, or a sorcerer. And it worked for a while. Long before these pages I had a way about me. I could beguile others into a world of rapture and imagination. A world where we got to be heroic, nuanced, and free. Till the wolf found his wending lantern, and suddenly everything changed.

It’s a difficult thing to explain, Kara. My darling angel. I don’t talk in artistic conceits. Even my fictions stem from very intimate truths. I used to think bravery and adventure was love enough. If I meant it in the moment, then it was real. I wasn’t wrong, of course. Just short-sighted. But as I’ve gotten older, I realize love is more than adventure or imagination. These are key aspects indeed, but ultimately a real love story is about presence. Showing up. A shared journey containing a thousand small gestures, each intended to delight and intrigue. If this isn’t true romance and devotion, then I shall never know what is.

As I said, never is a frightening word where our loved ones are concerned. To never see them, to never hold their hand, or hug them. To never again feel their kindness or their kiss. As I got older, I realised that flights of fancy weren’t enough. Adventure without genuine care became meaningless. Even pixie dust has its limits. But I also realised it didn’t have to stay that way. I could choose something different. I still had time. Courageous one, I know you sometimes doubt that I’m a time-traveller. A mysterious boy only growing older on the outside, still running for his life. But I am. Always seeking artistic companionship in this strange river of temporality. And I need you to know. I love you. Always, and forever. Beyond second stars, pirates, or wraiths.

There is a melancholy at the heart of me, but it isn’t tragedy. Far from it. I chose well. I turned my back on solipsism. I turned toward courage, kindness, and love. Amid the stars I heard a girl singing, and I flew. I followed her song till morning. She is an old and dear friend. Kara, I don’t love you simply for what you’ve given me, though you’ve given me so much. I don’t love you just for the songs you sing, though your voice cleaves my soul. No, I love you for who you are. Who you choose to be each day. Softness and strength in equal measure. Quietly perceptive. Canny and kind. And wilder than they know. But I know, Kara. I knew you among forests, beside rivers. The mid-river thimble around my neck, etched with Saint Christopher, is more than just the memory of your kiss. It’s the reminder of everything you mean to me. Everything we taught each other, in this world and many others.

You taught me things about life and love that I honour to this day. However, I taught you things too. So, men may say that they know you. Or remember you. But if they don’t recall you in your fullness, and try to lead you to greater vistas of possibility, within and without… then they don't know you at all. You once told me that you wanted adventure and contemplation both. Wildness and wisdom. Strength and sweetness. You said a boy didn’t have to betray his inner fire to soften his heart a little. That you would love him all the more if he could embrace you, himself and others in a thousand creative ways.

If he did this with a joyful, self-effacing swagger then he would remain an adventurer even as he matured. Pirates have no code, you said, and thieves no honour. But the souls who men and women wish to love ideally have both. It’s something I think about to this day. I’m not afraid to grow up anymore, but I seek to remain worthy of love. Yours especially. Love is expansive and life-affirming, you said. Not constricting and oppressive. You taught me well, in that brave but gentle way of yours. I hope you never forget it either, my adventurous girl. It will stand you in good stead, I’m certain. Choose wisely, live vibrantly, and love those who deserve it with your whole heart. There is no higher form of flight, believe me. You still have time.

Signs of Smiling

 

People ask for signs all the time, but then often ignore them if they don’t arrive in the form or with the level of comfort or seriousness they expect. It’s a curious thing. I don’t exclude myself from this phenomenon. We all fall prey to it from time to time. As human beings we’re fascinated by and very skilled in pattern recognition. We’re good at noticing the obvious stuff. In art as well as life. However, I think we have both a desire and a great fear of more esoteric patterns. Caught between a rock and a hard place, we crave depth but are frightened by it too. Much like the search for God, we vacillate between viewing these more subtle signs as either visions of a larger reality or utter madness. We’re never quite certain if we’re identifying a signal amidst the noise, or just mistaking that noise for signal by listening too hard. To speak colloquially, many people would say, “It isn’t that deep.” I would disagree. Life is experience and perception. Multidimensional, layered, and infinitely complex. Sometimes we think of the quest for meaning as a solitary pursuit. An almost mythic journey that requires isolation and calm. This aspect of sign-searching or signal-scrying has its place, of course. But sometimes we forget that signs can come among a crowd too. In connection, through reciprocity. In other words, we often expect signs from the universe to be serious. Solemn, or filled with gravitas befitting of the situation. And sometimes they reach us in exactly that way. But often, the best signs come laced with humour. Wrapped in comedy, or wit. What do I mean by this?       

Well, how often do we notice something glimmering in our perceptual field when we’re with another person, but because of social convention we ignore it, pretending it isn’t there? An object, an observation, or the restrictive convention itself? I often think we miss out on so many possibilities for connection, affection, and play. We forget to comment good-naturedly on the obvious thing. Calling out the elephant in the room. Or we remain silent on the amusing observation that only our particular outlook can provide. But when we encounter those who still see these subtler signs—and act on them—we often feel charmed, delighted, and reanimated. We relax, becoming less stiff. We are invited into a world of play. Moments like these respectfully defy convention, shattering the boring, obvious framing of a situation—and suddenly we feel more human. The best friendships and relationships have elements of all this. And casual encounters too. Wry observation, recognition of absurdity, playful reframing of situations and conventions, all shared in a spirit of openness and affection. We comment and riff and magnify. Human beings can bond far quicker when we’re able to do this. “Hey, look at this weird setting, this bizarre unspoken assumption, this colourful object, that unique item of clothing. Let’s share a little humanity and amuse ourselves by humorously improvising together about them.” When done in the correct spirit these interactions can include set-ups, payoffs and callbacks that rival the best standup comedy. And now people are searching for those signs, and finding them, together.    

So, how do we open that circle? Through inclusion, I’d suggest. Who in your life usually gets ignored? Reduced to background characters? Streamlined into virtual non-existence? Often it’s people just like us, but providing a different narrative function in the story of our lives. Random customers, service workers, or cleaners. People at different levels of the social hierarchy. How often do we remember to make others feel included, or in on the joke, or part of the conversation? We often forget, don’t we? Lost in the endless busywork of our lives. Sometimes opportunities present themselves, but we ignore them. But when we do remember to humanize others in this way, we can create a brief or sustained dynamic between us. As individuals and as a group. 

Have you ever been in a situation when everyone present recognised the funny thing? Or the ridiculous assumption? Or the amusing occurrence? Perhaps it was something as innocent as a child being uncannily perceptive, or saying something sweetly inappropriate. Waves of quiet laughter ripple amongst the group. Suddenly strangers and friends are sharing amused glances and smiles. That’s recognition. That’s our shared humanity brought to the forefront of all our minds for a moment. And suddenly we feel a little more alive. The human spirit sparkles a little brighter. Often we recall that moment on the journey home, or we discuss it with family and friends at a later date. That act of shared humanity is akin to a moment of implied friendship amongst people who don’t necessarily know each other. You all saw the sign, glinting like a star in the mud, and the shared recognition of that sign briefly connected everyone. For just a moment, you were all behaving like friends in a kind of assumed familiarity. Suddenly the emotional distance between everyone was lessened. These moments always bring a great deal of comfort and delight to our day. We are reanimated for a while, and we feel warmth towards those we shared that moment with. So, if the divine intelligence that people call God really does exist, maybe it’s not that he doesn’t understand the seriousness or gravity of any given situation, but like us he enjoys connection. Like us he wants to see us at our most human. Perhaps he wants to see our spirits sparkle—and perhaps he understands the power of a sign sent with a smile.