I got the first piece of advice from a sweet Jesuit nun in grad school. It worked. So I added the second part. I was a long-time celibate urban mystic. And as you can imagine, there were lots of emotions and longings to sort through. I chose to use rising crescendos of energy (whether rage or rhapsody) purposefully. I milked the feelings, and turned them into fuel.
I found that anger was best for cleaning things. And horniness was best for creating things.
When Life wants to come through you, it can feel aphrodisiacal. Like warm whispers on your neck. That is Life readying you -- indoctrinating you with desire. It’s no different from sap filling a tree, or salmon spawning its eggs. Life's Fire shoots up, into an irrepressible mandate that something must get made. If not love, then art. Or a meal. Or, maybe, a book.
I’ve spent the last several years percolating. Metabolizing. Sublimating. All kinds of revelations and stimulations. So much so, I’m gonna pop. I mean, publish.
The way to cross the bridge between light-filled THOUGHT and love-influenced FORM is to direct your concentrated vigor downward -- from your head, through your heart, and into your loins, where erotic and procreative power reside.
My creative journey has tapped into a lively shade of red. More frank. Less coy. Adult. Blessing and integrating ALL that I am. Sacred and sensual. Stardust and flesh.