eye of the storm

monaco sent me the following email this morning:

As a fellow blogger, I feel inclined to contribute to the pages of others within this virtual community of outspoken, self-represented souls--especially if a post tweaks my right eyebrow into a triangular contortion.

I've always been a sucker for time-lapse photographs that expose an unwavering subject--something or someone almost completely unaffected by the chaos, streaks of motion or emotion surrounding it. There is an aspect of that steadfast object or person that, for me, represents the mystery of frozen time. The incomprehensible notion of what rests between then and now, now and later.

I, like so many around this country, am currently reassessing my contributions, achievements, and ambitions in addition to my defeats, debts, and developing skill set. Where my evaluation may differ from most is that I've been doing so for years without much assurance that others are involved in the same process known as introspection. Perhaps the only silver sliver on our otherwise black horizon is that, finally, people will stop amidst the blur and exact their own location, internally and externally in life.

I am without a doubt a person who moves from space to space, but never out of comfort or security. Rather I believe my vaults are attributed to the experience of exploration. I want to witness as much blur and movement as possible, but, I suppose, my zigzag lifestyle deposits me smack in the middle of the colorfully racing masses.

What I believe to be another variance between my motion trails and those of others is I'm not escaping nor denying one thing or many things about myself or my life. That action is what I am convinced most souls display throughout their lives. Without getting too academic, Emerson once wrote that no matter how far he traveled, nor how quickly he did so, his troubles and luggage always made the same journey.

That's why I am utterly drawn to the eye of the storm when a photograph portrays such. I see perseverance, acknowledgment, and for lack of a better word, courage. Indeed we all reassess, whether voluntarily or not, during the course of our journeys, but, as this blog's contributor has duly noted: it's not the actual halting of our movement that matters the most, but rather the ability and willingness to open our minds and eyes to the madness within and around us.