As funny as it sounds,
This message,
Isn’t just about smoking drugs.
The drugs are only a way to set up an idea outside of the hang ups, opinions, and preconceived notions
That I
, And perhaps
you,
Have around painting and art.
That being said
There is something funny that happens to me
in regards to cannabis use.
It is always, and has always,
been
cyclical
Meaning that at some point I go from very little,
if any,
to a multiple times in a day
frequency
No rhyme or reason.
Some times not at all,
and other times,
I can’t get enough.
This state is the dried forest floor in late august
Ready to welcome spark
The spark remains to be seen
The spark
cannabis use in my life
How it manifests
Why it does
a loose pattern
but if you follow along
it will start to ignite
1)Celebratory, initiated by others(whether friends or a music video)
2)Celebratory, initiated by myself
3)Heightening experience, whether its painting or cooking,
4)Creating a heightened experience, to facilitate creativity/flow
5)Boredom, first resort to fill my time, a choice between many
things
6)Boredom, as a coping mechanism, the first and only choice
7)Desire, it’s something that I am looking forward to, planning
8)Compulsion, without thinking, the beginning stages of abuse
9)Enslavement, there is no choice, i do what it says.
Now currently, after clarifying my stages of cannabis use, I realize I am sitting in between stages 3 and 4.
In fact I am going to roll a joint right now and then continue writing this article.
Normally I spend at least ten days editing but this will be posted just in time for dessert tonight.
I just hope its sweet enough for you
Gimme a sec to puff puff pass
The smoke is filling the room and my thoughts.
The spark
What is it that causes me to smoke weed
My body
How it feels
or my heart
mind
Soul
Or however you identify the thing
that is
you
The question
How do I feel?
The first answer
in black and white
And then
Over time
subtly moving into greys
Good or bad
Into
A warmth travelling through my heart, fueled by a belly, and emanating from eyes
Or a weighted
wet blanket
in a
cold
cruel
world
The question
What is fuelling the use or misuse of this plant?
I ask this of myself,
And sitting from here,
between
A spark of
3 and 4
Multi tasking between
online dating
And
This message to you
I find myself drawn to the back and forth nature of being this high
To quickly focus intently on two different things
In the space between the two
The intent
and language
I use
When talking about them to you
At two ends of the spectrum
Smoking weed dude
Finding love
And in this back and forth a common theme forms
A little bit
of spirit
from
each of them
Become
Intermixed
With the other.
And just like that the two have become one
This is why,
when I am writing, about getting stoned, it sounds like a love letter to
The one
that is
loved
The question becomes more refined
And answers in kind.
This type of high
Feels like a transition
From
Liberty
To
Compulsion
An irresistible urge
Outside of decision making
Something being done to me
Rather than with me
Is there a way that this experience could ever feel controlled
The outcome
The journey?
Being compelled to smoke
To get high
Balanced so delicately
With the freedom to choose when and where
Even when sober
My ability to control a journey or outcome
Is suspect to say the best
Where i currently am
a spark burning between a three and a four
the transition
The change
is it just a dance
And what starts out as a separate experience
A person dancing with another
when the music starts
Intertwined
Two bodies held closely
Four feet moving
In conversation
Syncopated in time
To the beat of music played through speakers
Or
Through hearts
Combining
Two
To become
One .
Two become one
That is the difference
being a part of this universe
Over
Being apart from it
This drug
Which has been a gateway to so many different places for so many different people
Where I find myself blowing the smoke into my creative sails
It becomes an echo of what is inside of me
What if
What if painting became the drug?
What if art?
What if your medium, or platform becomes the drug?
Where do you sit in your interaction to it?
Is it a compulsion??
Does it bring liberty?
Does creation come from a place of fear or love?
Has it become an addiction outside of choice. Filling the void. Empty strokes that speak to being lost and looking to occupy time ?
The potency of intent
Where it can take me
How deep I can go
Regardless of what else happens in this life
Let it be said that there was a direction I travelled
A destination I was heading
Some times I knew not where, how or when
But trusting the next step.
Until the end
If there is even an end