Apnea

6:30 am 

Breakfast

A feeling hanging in the air gives a chill. I move to the window and pull the shades open. Still Life, a Rockwell painting un-paused. In a moment my existence becomes the never ending notion that "theres something that I have to do today". I hurry and throw on last nights jeans, they smell like Jennifer, it comforts me. Taking a page out of my fathers playbook I hit the street immediately. 

I make a left turn and head for the ocean. Cutting through the park I imagine myself a savage tribesman, built for hunting. I decide to be anonymous, to move silent and purposeful. My cells feel alive at this pace, A thick coat of sweat builds on my skin and I ache for water.

Feeling the ocean breeze I stand before a giant tree folded in on itself as though it were a living celtic knot. I am awestruck by its perfect existence. I touch it's bark and a dried piece flakes off into my hand. Wanting more than anything to share this beauty I place the bark in the ocean. It floats gently on the surface, braving the waves, It's direction almost seems purposeful. 

Feeling too attached I remove myself from thoughts of the tree. I remember my life in the tribe, I remember last night.

An old man approaches, his name is Patton. In a moment he'll introduce himself.

"You've come an awful long way fella"

Someone told me it's a quick way to get somewhere.

"Nothing happens quickly when the moment is time"

Nathan, in case you were wondering

"I'd never ask, The commitment implied is a promise. Names Patton"

Something tells me you want to give me advice.

" I want to remind you of your life, to give you what you asked for. I want to return the favor"

I haven't done anything for you.

"You will."

11:34 am

Lunch

Jennifer works at the coffee house, she's waiting outside.

"Why am I not surprised?"

No reason to be, you knew I'd get here.

"There was a time when I thought you'd forget, Nothing memorable ever happened over coffee."

You don't need me to tell you that isn't true.

She smiles and invites me in for a hug, impact creating the big bang theory. I feel the weightlessness of adoration and remind myself that there is much left to do. She lets go first because she is brave. I turn and move quickly, all I want is to stay.

Walking steadily I come to the hill i'd ride my bike down as a child. Laughter fills me as memories flood, Philip and Tommy waiting at the bottom as i prepared to tempt the fates. I think of Edwin and wish he was standing beside me. 

I make a right and walk hard, The thought creeps in and I know i'll be alone for a while. I begin to miss the tribe. I come to the tallest building and sit in the shadow it casts. Reaching into my pocket I remove a chunk of tree bark, Instinctively I take a large bite than begin etching something into the ground beneath my feet. 

Weightless

free

unafraid

The wind carries her scent as I open my eyes. I am lying on the roof of the tallest building, as close as i can get to the sun on a cloudy day. I remember my father and the words he spoke most often…

"I have learned more from you than I could ever teach, you are my greatest creation and a triumph. You will learn these lessons someday and you will know peace"

Her summer dress is perfect, I think noticing the coffee stain just above her left breast. She's beginning to show, She kisses me warmly and says she'd like the name Moon if it's a girl. I softly kiss her forehead, knowing we'll name him Edwin.

We lay perfectly still in the afternoon sun, listening to the world move around us. She's alive in time, this reminds me i'm running late.

Running with purpose I come to a stop as I see Tommy and Philip sitting in a knotted tree.

"Well look who it is Phil! I can't believe you'd travel this far… Everything you need you already have man!"

I didn't bring my bike.

"Tommy's got his, I've got mine… guess you'll have to catch us."

I want to chase them as they speed off in the distance but I know I won't. Philip goes to law School. Tommy is gunned down trying to stop a robbery at his grandfathers Liquor store.

I feel someone take my hand.

I pray that it's her.

Edwin looks up at me, his eyes shut tight, his head is bleeding.

"None of this has ever been your fault Dad. It's ok to come home."

I have so much left to learn son, I'm afraid you can't teach me.

"Can I walk with you for a while?"

Nothing would make me happier, where would you like to go?

" take me to the ocean"

8:01 PM

Dinner 

The sun fades and brings with it conflict. I can feel the time passing quicker now and there is much to get done. I try and remember what its like to sing in the shower, to smile endlessly at someone who doesn't notice you looking. I think of Patton and wonder what, if anything I could ever do for him.

At the mercy of the moment I look around me and see sketches of pain. Eyes welled with tears, doubt, emptiness and fear. I see a woman in the distance, she is glowing in the darkness. I go to her and she waits with open arms. She embraces me softly and kisses the top of my head, I pray in vain that she will hold me forever as she lets go.

"You did not want to see me."

Not now. Not like this, I've learned nothing… I'm more afraid then ever before. 

" Everything you've seen is what you asked to see. The very existence of all thats around you is proof of your growth"

Do you think I can come home? I'm not sure I remember the way.

"Remember how you got here and you'll find your way home"

She extends her hand and places it over mine. I look down to see a piece of tree bark it my hand, it has what appears to be a bite mark on one side. All I can think of is Jennifer. 

I walk through the thick air of the evening making turns I've never made before yet knowing exactly where I am.

 I remember my 7th birthday, Mother distracting me with cake batter as Father wheeled in my birthday present, a brand new bike! I smile wide and jump in place, dad says it's ok to take it out for a ride. 

Feeling emboldened by my training wheels I take off down the block care free and full of life. I come to the biggest hill in the neighborhood at the bottom are two kids I've never met before hanging out next to their bikes. I decide I should introduce myself… only one way to do that.

My thoughts are interrupted by a familiar smell. I turn right and head for my apartment. As I open the door I see the living angel with my own eyes, Jennifer is waiting for me and she is beautiful. She removes her silk robe to reveal her impossible body. She grabs me firmly and begs me to hold her forever. 

I remove my shirt, she kisses my chest. I close my eyes and whisper my love. She puts her finger over my lip and brings her mouth to my ear

"tell me when you wake up"

The rest is a dream

mine forever

perfect.

Lying in the afterglow I pick up the newspaper, not surprisingly the headline is unsettling.

TREE OF WOE

My eyes well with tears as I read the details. A boy falls from a tree, his head is cracked and bleeding, his parents rush him to the family car and speed off for the hospital. In their panic they fail to notice a young boy riding his bike down the tallest hill in the neighborhood until the last possible second. 

Father slams his foot on the breaks instinctively and sends the family car careening into the local coffee shop. The boy on the bike is unharmed. The boy in the car is killed. The mother is hospitalized and Father lies in a coma. Names are withheld at the families request.

I close the paper and stare as the sun begins to peak through the curtains. I am alone in bed. I make my way to the window and open the shades. Lovely day outside, Think I'll head to the ocean.

Making my way past the coffee shop I see an old man across the street smiling at me, I return the greeting and wave. He nods his head and makes a left round the corner. I cut through the park and head to my favorite spot, the knotted old tree I used to climb as a kid.

I arrive and find the tree as inviting as ever and for a moment I feel totally calm. I reach out to touch the massive trunk and a piece of bark falls into my hand revealing Writing etched in the old tree. 

Weightless, free, unafraid

Jennifer Martin loves Nathan Patton.

I look out at the ocean and watch as Edwin places a piece of tree bark into the water. I breathe for what feels like the first time. 

I open my eyes and see Jennifer. She's older and appears shocked. I can't process what she's saying.

10 years…

accident…

Edwin.

She tells me she knew I'd come back

She tells me we can go home.

I kiss her and reply, I love you.

Until All You Have Left...

The journey is long and you will face many challenges
You will become tired but sleep very little
Everyone you know will misunderstand you
will appreciate your kindness, while they do

whatever they want

You will miss the summer in the winter
and enjoy the spring and fall
You will love
You will lose love
You will find the answer and laugh audibly
You won't smell roses
but you'll stare at the sea
you will see the face of god in the eyes of another
you will understand the reason
you will ache for the pain
you will search for what you are looking for

until all you have left… is Raisin Bran.

Inspired by the mind of Mike Doughty

Four Hundred & Twenty Push-ups

There is a certain underhandedness to all of this life.

Each one of us goes in with an ace up our sleeves,

detailed files

the skinny… on ourselves.

In quiet moments We find it easy to think and hard to be ashamed. 

If a frustrated man sits alone in a room and kills himself does Baby wake up from a dream in which she was an ant?

We are crippled by the most inward of things, Fear at the forefront , Vanity close behind… Doubt bringing up the rear

Slow and steady… The Tortoise.

We need so much approval from the others while pretending not to care.

While long glances are shared, meaning more than books, movies or fashion trends. 

Looking out the window there is a nature sitting about

above us

in spite of us

It's life attempting to remind us to stay alive

We will not control the ending and keep our dignity intact.

Trust.

A third eye and two thumbs should straighten us out.

All the Experience...

Some things in life you will remember, most of it you'll forget.  


I remember my first snow cone, messy!


Mothers hair falling on her shoulders, beautiful.


I remember looking Love in the eye
and the look that said it wasn't enough.


I remember feeling floored by the creativity of others 
and making it my goal in life to knock someone on their ass.


I remember the touch of suffering 


I remember being scared... of everything.


I forget to look up at the sky.


I forget to introduce people.


I forget that words can kill as fast as they can heal.


I forget to doubt myself at every turn.


I forget what "can't" be done.


I remember breathing without pain in my chest 


I wrote this all down and found a few friends, now my memories exist a brush stroke on a canvas that will take a lifetime to fill


All we have is now
All thats left to do is share
This is my voice screaming at the top of his lungs, crying wolf was never an option.


Consider this piece of art everything I ever wanted to say but couldn't


Think of what you remember. 
Tell us a story.

Eco-Friendly, in the Metaphysical sense

I drink a lot of beer… sometimes with my lady, most times with my my friends. Often times I drink alone. All this consumption leaves me with bottles… lots of bottles. After carefully surveying  the minefield for fallen solders I deliberately pack up said bottles and place them in the appropriate bin that my Landlord has been gracious enough to set up for me just outside my home. Before the night is out a rustling can be heard outside my window as a disproportionately small asian woman collects all of the bottles I've so graciously left out for her in the appropriate bin. She knows they'll be there, we've danced this dance before. She is selective, she has no need for cans, or half gallons of milk. She's come for the bottles, and the bottles she will have. Closer to the morning a truck pulls up front, running just behind schedule the sanitation worker is relieved to find a light load of milk containers and cans waiting for him. He quickly scoops them from the appropriate bin and contemplates actually finishing his route ahead of schedule, not a bad way to end the week. 

In 1970 Jimmy Page writes the solo for Stairway to Heaven alone in the basement of a house on Loch Ness. He uses a Fender Telecaster that was given to him by Jeff Beck. The Tele is adorned with Day-Glo Dragons which Page has painted himself. He took an interest in painting and studied in a fine art school after becoming ill touring the english country side in  a van with his buddies. The song becomes the most played ever on American radio and in a moment of chance some twenty years later a young boy pulls a ratty old cassette tape out of a bag full of ratty old cassette tapes. The cover has no words, only four symbols and an old man carrying a bundle of sticks on his back. The boy excitedly pops the tape into the stereo that his grandmother has so graciously set up for him in the corner of his bedroom. He presses play and in a few short minutes decides the entire course of his life. 

Some people get it, most don't… He makes a lot of friends that do, and even falls in love a few times. All along This Road he takes accurate notes and remembers them in the form of song. He uses these songs to start a band and put in motion the plan. The one born so long ago sitting by the stereo, listening to a cassette tape. The plan brings with it many failures, but even more successes and the boy becomes a man. In a moment of calm some years later he sits by the window listening to Stairway, thinking in reverse and feeling the passing of time. His concentration is broken by the clattering of bottles outside and at that moment he decides he needs a beer. 

What Do We Open With?

The air is thick 

The room is hot

Focus is a myth and nerves don't exist

Water, god I need water

Attention divided

The open minded

The Savages 

A chance to prove them all right 

the hardest part is walking through the door.

Crack, buzz, hum. Heineken 

its on.

Rip, Rage, Yell, Play, FLIRT, Dance

understand

LOVE

I knew I could

felt I should 

all I want is now.

My sweat is cool

 close my eyes

give in

and its over.

Astral Lives

The world is round, my peg is square. 

I can readily admit that in most situations I feel uneasy, like that one guy in the room who doesn't get the joke. It's a party of one where ever I go and I carefully observe the herd. I don't quite know why but for some reason the majority of my thoughts tend to focus on my idea of who i'm supposed to be and the crippling realization that I don't quite measure up. The spiritualist in me would say I am too attached to my ego. The artist, that I'm yearning. The 12 year old still thinks he's ugly and that no one really likes him. I'm proud to say that I've mastered the art of balancing out these and the many other characters that exist in my head. Listening to the voices that guide and taking the rest with a grain of salt. 

Part of the reason I love music so much is because of those small moments, when the right song hits at the right time. When solitude or a room full of interaction makes no difference. A calm level of focus and understanding washes over me and the very last thing on my mind is myself. The miracle is cast and the sea parts. Zen, at peace, calm, centered and focused on only the moment. Perfection in an imperfect world. More than any other record, Astral Weeks provides me this feeling. 

Lester Bangs once said "What Astral Weeks deals in are not facts but truths. Astral Weeks, insofar as it can be pinned down, is a record about people stunned by life, completely overwhelmed, stalled in their skins, their ages and selves, paralyzed by the enormity of what in one moment of vision they can comprehend." and to his credit this says more about the etherial beauty of this album than I ever could. 

Funny thing is, I can't remember anything about how the album came into my possession. I don't remember who gave it to me, or how I'd come to hear of it. Maybe the reason is that in the grand scheme of things that is trivial information. What I do remember is hearing Astral Weeks for the first time. Going in, my previous Van Morrison experience consisted of Moondance and Brown Eyed Girl, staples on Q104 New York's Classic Rock! I was not prepared. The first listen confused me. I didn't know what i was hearing. The music was tight, for sure and the voice was full of passion, but none of the lyrics made any sense to me and whats worse he seemed to be singing haphazardly, with little to no attention paid to forming verses or choruses. The songs just seemed to float in and out of each other, running for what seemed like forever or stopping just as things were getting interesting. 

I didn't get it.

So... Very... Embarrassing. 

I wanted more.

For years I'd listen alone, not knowing why, but knowing that I HAD to. The songs became a security blanket for me. Every time life got too hard and I didn't want to think... Astral Weeks. I'd spend hours focusing on every detail trying to find what it was that kept  drawing me back. I'd cry without being sad, laugh out loud for no reason at all. In time the experience became pure catharsis. It didn't matter that I had Cerebral Palsy, or that i was short, awkward and afraid. Something about the feel of the music gave me courage, sometimes even hope. It took everything that had ever happened to me, everything i'd seen or felt and put it in a picture frame for me to view from a distance.

I get it now.

Understanding in the form of a perfect moment.

Off to find more.