John Frusciante spoke of a place where he ventures to write. play. think. meditate. create. He said that this place was full of energy and full of insight. This is a place of colorful peace and manifested love. This place is an actual, tangible destination but cannot be found on any map. This place isn’t controlled by reason, logic, or rationality. This is a place where the gravitational pull isn’t strictly enforced (or adhered to). This is a place that has no order. This is a place where the grass is a color and the skies are embodied in a shape. This is a place where sound is palpable. This is the fourth dimension.
Those who frequently sojourn there don’t desire to depart, however, the exhibitionists (who have heard of its fire and puissant power) aimlessly roam- in attempt to locate it. Its coordinates, though not hidden, can only be found by those who zealously seek it.
It’s location is inscribed into the heat of every tube and into the shrill pitch of every bend. It is the origination of creativity and the breeding place of greatness. It is a place of uninhibited freedom and expression. Once one channels his way into it, he can encounter Music: the entity. She is passionate and she is volatile. She is tantalizing. enticing. tempting. alluring. captivating. She whispers into the ears of those who have not yet contemplated sound or the wondrous arena that she facilitates. I eagerly search so that I might sojourn in her presence. I stumble over the fallen ones who never found her and I rummage and sift through the the documentation of her whereabouts. However, she can’t be described with a pen and cannot be found with a compass. This path I shall continue no longer; for it does not lead to her. I will resume my search, taking a different approach. She’s worth the pursuit. I forage, for she is my food and my drink, and I am ravenous with desire.
After encountering her, everything that one creates lingers. breathes. remains. is. The creation is a pure, organic piece that lacks nothing because it was created within a realm of passion by those who fervently desire its perfection (However, the individual is the least important aspect of the entire process). This is where I yearn to dwell.
drifting into the fourth dimension::me
Posted in Me, Music, Uncategorized
Tags: entropy, fourth dimension, John Frusciante, Music, passion