I cannot understate how awesome Moleskine Journals are! I just bought a new, simple black one, and started writing again. It’s been a while, and I have been in a dry spell. The following are some of my ramblings, cleaned up so that it makes a little more coherent sense.

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I write because I am scattered. This is not to focus, but to release the garbage that builds up. The dedication to this type of meditation is important. Yet, I edit as I go, which means I’m not yet completely genuine. This takes time. I’m writing to say I need to learn how to be.

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My list of favorite words are reused.

• Bend
• Water
• Slant

Pick up a rock. Put it down. Pick up a rock. Put it down. This act is deliberate. It built roads. It built pyramids. The great act of creativity is a shared concept.

We kill God just to reinvent him again. This is normal, and we do it to suit our current motivations. The closest we come was music. Beethoven. Bach. Mozart. The glory they expressed for the concept of creation. I do not doubt the existence of the extraordinary, but rather its willfulness and concern. It comes and goes without care, looking for a host to inhabit. Without conscience, there is no divinity, and so, believers make of it what they will. It simply places on loan to us the act of creation – the gift itself to create music, technology, design. And then it leaves, as mysteriously as it entered us. The Greeks believed it. They called them genies that lived in the walls.