Thursday, March 26, 2009

On Makeshift Eyes.

When I hand most people my business card, amusingly enough, the reaction is almost always the same. The URL is recited: "Make, shift... eyes?" which is often followed by an expression of either curiousity or confusion. The origin of the term comes from a poem I wrote a long time ago. Here it is:

Scar City

Baby stillborn screeching
In these waking hours of scarcity
This is Scar City
The metropolis of retribution
These are the remaining numbers
Skinny hands and glossy shelters
Grandfather's wood with depictions of
Sun and moon and chiming wails
Winding down in the aftermath
Of Change
This is the invisible black ribbon
In every rainbow
And we are the children
Who see

Makeshift eyes carry visions
Of regressing days beyond birth
The inexplicable conviction
Rings in speakers, high pitched
And obnoxious
Breathe the toxins in deep
My visiting confidant
This is all the fresh air you get

Relax now
The promise has not shattered yet

It has been long since the ticking
Has ceased
Eyelids have since been closed
In this darkness, hope still weeps
And in time we shall dream
Of dawn

We are possessed in the physical realm to manifest things that exist in the non-physical realm. "Makeshift eyes carry visions of regressing days beyond birth," means that we must use whatever we have within us to feel and interpret the history of the universe which began millions of years prior to our own individual creations.

Unfortunately, the human race suffers greatly when attempting to achieve such a vision. We do not have the metaphysical faculty to see. Intuitively, most people understand that there is something we are missing. I don't need to start an arbitrary dissertation on spirituality or spill out my beliefs on the human condition, (I'm sure that will come in time through this blog!) but I will say this: Those who find something in themselves that can serve as windows to view this particularly beautiful and vague scenery, if only temporarily, will be the ones to lead us out of the darkness.