A Letter Amongst the Starry Night
Each day as the sun sets, a new painting is cast upon the sky. It’s been 11 years since I’ve graduated and 4015 paintings have been scorched by the morning sun. I have traveled the world and scoured its depths, only to find myself on my rear-end, and here you stand. I hope all is going well in your endeavors and that you have found joy and love to guide you down the winding road of life. I know we’ve distanced from one another, and I apologize; but we merely had diverging paths. I, a strong-willed writer with my convoluted mind, and you, a passionate actor with dreams so expansive you put God to shame. However, I digress. I write to you atop the Swiss Alps and the air here is simply refreshing. It reminds me of the crisp, dark nights spent around the firepit you fed until our noses froze. It reminds me of us, with the air amidst our fingers cruising down I-75; carefree and steadfast. Yet what it truly reminds me of: is me. My divisive and rigorous path through life and writing has once more connected me back to the implausible; and here I stand, in awe, as if there is blood crawling down my weary hands.
Last night, I stared at an empty page (hoping for a breakthrough publishing) as I reflected upon the stars and had a small thought: “Why now?” Now I know why, and the answer is rather unambiguous. That being: there is no reason. And at this very moment, sitting in silence amongst the Starry Night, I have seemingly found peace within myself and who I was. You knew that my path in life inevitably would turn rather audacious and deranged with undying curiosity and deafening bordomen taking hold of my throat more often than normative conformity and social aptitude. Thus riotous adventures o’ plenty, I share with you why I’m here and just what exactly I see within these fleeting paintings.
Astronomy is an endless mystery; I believe we can learn something from such barren ignorance. Looking upon the night sky, we’re presented with thousands of stars peering through the dark. Without them the night’s painting would be void of anything. We would feel truly alone. However, we are not. When one feels disconnected, they have a dormant belief that they won’t remain lonely; for something out there is seeking connection. Plus, when one looks into the night sky, you can see endless opportunities built upon the fabric of life, erupting through lightyears at enthralling, theoretical speeds. Despite such ideas, I say that I have become such a star; so accordingly, these paintings of scattered light fascinate me. Regardless of life’s mishaps, I have tamed the Bering Sea and embraced the suck; for we are infinite, and if you carry anything from this it’s keep going and never stop. For one day, I will spot you peering down upon me at night and I’ll tell myself:
“He made it.”