If you’ve never seen the ocean, and many times even if you have, you cannot comprehend its vastness, the sheer scope and expansiveness of such immensity. It instantly puts almost everything into sudden, and meek, perspective. We like to think of ourselves as so much more than a grain of sand on this planet, but really we are not. We are but a tiny fraction of the fold, and even our largest and grandest cities could be plucked and dropped into the middle of that water and the earth would barely even shudder.

No one wants to think about how small and insignificant we might really be. Maybe it scares us. Maybe we fight against that, working our way to become Someone, or to make something that Matters. Maybe getting our heads around the simple enormity of the world is our purpose in life. How does one even begin to make a mark?

Across the expanse of all that blue water, where leviathans glide through the lightless depths, another shore eventually arises.

How far could you go?

How far would you go?

Blue begets green, as light and air and water nourish the growing, living things, and orbs within orbs circle on our great sphere. There is a shift in the perspective of things, a seismic disturbance that will register and reverberate far into the future. Maybe we can move the world.

“You can hide so much behind theatrics, and I don’t need to do that anymore.”  – Alexander McQueen

The final bend of The Delusional Grandeur Tour Book is at hand, and it will hopefully be a breath of fresh air for those who got bogged down by all the darkness and bad bunny behavior of what came before. On this last leg of our journey, we head into a more spiritual, yet realistic realm. The notions of pain, hurt, retribution, fantasy, glamour and excess are beginning to be reconciled, and there will soon be a dismantling of a past lived almost entirely behind a stage curtain.

This is the start of the awakening.

An open door.

A portal to a world where the past peacefully cohabitates with the present, and the future lurks temptingly around corners.

Locked cabinets, hidden drawers, and the sheen of a thickly-lacquered veneer – so many shields, so many defenses, all coated in glossy shine.

This is the beginning of learning to let secrets slumber.

Certain silks are better left undisturbed.

Not all dust is bad.

In stone and wood, a certain wisdom resides.

The wisdom of nature, of an order pre-destined and established beyond our sense of time.

It is stalwart, steady and true.

There is clarity in leaving some things obscured.

If you can wrap your head around that and let the need for all-knowing absolute certainty go, you will find that clarity.

Then you will find serenity, and perhaps even a purpose.

We seek to defy chaos.

We wish to restore order.

We want it all to make sense.

There is a time to be like stone, a time to be sturdy like wood.

And then there is a time to be like water – fluid and flexible, able to freeze, able to flow, and able to evaporate.

In beauty there is peace.

In my palm, I hold a prayer.