I’ve had to start over quite a few times in my life so far. Well, never quite like this, I guess, but there’s nothing that comes close to the feeling of a fresh page in a brand new notebook in your life. As an artist, you get used to new beginnings. You get to start from scratch with every new work of art you make.

But that’s not actually starting from scratch, is it? I mean, you bring along with you every single work of art you’ve ever made prior to that one, every single emotion, thought or idea you’ve ever had. Every painting, song, movie or game you’ve ever played, all of that comes along too! Not to mention all the angels and demons traveling at your side. No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake those off. Go to the edge of the world if you must, to Mars if you have to, but you’ll see, they always find a way to follow you around. 

But there is nothing as inspiring as a blank canvas. Some have gone as far as claiming that a blank canvas is the best painting there is. That silence is the best song ever made. Now I find that to be quite preposterous. One thinks that within an infinite realm of possibilities, perfection lies there, untouched. But let’s analyze that for just one second, shall we? “Infinite possibilities”? Well that can’t be…what about everything we mentioned previously? All the thoughts you’ve ever had, your angels and demons…all of these reduce that “infinity” to a very finite realm of possible creations. We are the victims of our own crimes as well as good deeds. Every dark thought we contemplated in deafening solitude just as every kind word or prayer addressed to our peers are with us at all times. They all create the world around us. The “Matrix” that Morpheus claims is being placed in front of our eyes by machines is, in all actuality, placed in front of our eyes by ourselves. Sure, it’s easy to perceive causality when we’re talking about large-scale events or simple actions. I am hungry, therefore I went and ate a cookie. Simple. But we have millions of thoughts every single day. Hundreds of ideas per hour, a desire or two per minute. And just as it was simple to notice causality in grabbing ourselves a cookie when hungry, it should come as no surprise that all of those hundreds of thoughts per hour do create consequences. And those thoughts are mere children of other thoughts, which are children of our principles. A person living in peace shall find that peace manifest itself in thoughts, words and actions spread across the years of living on this world.  Life begets life and death begets death. “Simple” right? But not easy in the slightest. 

So, is it all just a circle? A flat chain of causes and effects? Well if so, what’s the point then…we’d all just be damned to live in the never ending consequences of our previous failures or triumphs. Choice would be nothing more than a word meaning as little as a grain of sand means to a beach. Beginnings would, in all actuality, be nothing more but repetitions, with a slightly different background appearing every now and again to keep us entertained in this loop going nowhere. 

But every once in a while, something happens. Every once in a while, despite all of our mistakes, this dark circle breaks under its own weight and a ray of sunshine appears. Every once in a while, a person decides that the chains of their own creation shouldn’t exist anymore. The veil is lifted. We are un-plugged. The Matrix fades into different shapes and contours, the likes of which we have never seen before. I will not pretend to fully understand exactly when this rupture does occur. But the circles do break, that’s for sure. And when they do, we are faced with a true beginning. 
Of course, even these beginnings are not absolute. Not all chains break at the same time. Some still remain…for a while, at least. But these are the points at which new patterns are created. Either the circle is broken and rises above in a spiral of peace, or it falls even lower, where stronger, coarser chains break through one’s very soul to find a new home.

It is at these points that one can rise to the sky on wings of smoke made by the fires of our own principles. And the fire always needs to be burning. Not too bright, or you’ll run out of air. Just enough to keep floating. Soaring until the sky is reached, and the circle is broken once again. One day at a time, bring some lumber to these fires. As long as they’re from the spark of Love, their smokes will carry you across the deserts and seas of your past mistakes.

-Coraldi 14.10.2024