the secret room under the stairs.
i’ve a quiet and hidden place of ideological residence where only my thoughts live, there in that secret room under the stairs. most often i lock myself away there. and for hours i sit and ponder, sometimes about great nothings and other times about those insignificant somethings, but most of the time i think about you. i try and fight cliche expressions concerning your nature. ridding my brain of such illusory claims taught by others. stripping away the worthless to find those truths of value. the ones that are simple, yet so endlessly complex and enigmatic in themselves. like love, hope, justice & peace. the sounds of constant thumping above as people travel up and down, up and down, up and down becomes rhythmic, uniform almost. they seem dull and lonely, without colour. but down here there is never a moment of mediocrity concerning you. each developing thought and dynamic perception are like new colours added to an evolving palette. in this secret room under the stairs i paint masterpieces of interpretation. upon the canvas of reality this subjective brush continually strokes to and fro with freedom. creating new works while retaining the memory and integrity of pieces from long ago. this is my studio and i am the artist. sometimes i frame pensive photographs or fashion sculptures of faith. here i can draw my doubts and colour them with curiousity. and as much as i create here, there is unceasing revision and editing to be done. for the canvas shifts without warning, the colours turn, and if one is not careful, the entire world passes in a blink. and yet, there is always time to pause amidst the tulmultous tide. when my thoughts set down their brushes and pencils and stare out across the horizon. even there, in that secret room under the stairs i watch the heavens with acute vision, dancing in time to that immortal & sacred rhythm. i think i’ll stay a while yet.
