I remember when I first heard his music, one song in particular... I felt it in my sacral. It exploded and I wasn't prepared.
A serpent began to rise; it swirled like a tendril of smoke from a sleeping dragon and danced to a rhythm that caught me.
This Wild Spirit woke a fire in me that didn't burn.
The inner artist that could see w eyes open.
The eyes that had no gates, no walls, no doors.
I found a darkness that was so beautiful.
A depth I didn’t know about.
And in it I could see so much more.
This Wild Spirit taught me about the world in his own way.
“Before you slip into unconsciousness.. I'd like to have another kiss..”
Subsiding the angst and the rage that I... and we all carried and carried and carried..
I was able to drop it all in an instance and realize that I could walk in this world in a more stunning way.
Where my wounds and scars could alchemize into a creative magic and I could see more clearly the world and feel more clearly the depth of my own inner world.
I remember feeling more beautiful and more alive after listening to him for the first time.
“Ride the snake.. ride the snake.. to the lake.. the ancient lake baby”..
Hair swinging w a cigarette, full of ideas.
Nag Champa and Sandalwood.
The Magic Woman in me. A Waterhouse painting.
Pouring water into the river of life, stirring a cauldron of Dragon's breath.
The ancient animal stirring and falling in love w art, music, beauty and all the senses, common and uncommon. Aphrodite twirling and skipping stones across the subconscious.
Creativity, art and beauty is not a thing for the evolved, or the highly educated, it is an intuitive thing that speaks to the Soul beyond any kind of words. It is a thing that words cannot come close to.
“My wild love went riding..”
I hung that black & white poster of him above my bed.. you know the one... where he is shirtless and Jesus-like and I said goodnight to him every night..
“When you're strange..”
And it led me to feeling myself and the potential of creative fire for the first time.
How it is already there and how some things can turn an ember into a roaring blaze.
“Try to set the night on fire...”
I remember hearing him and my energy grew big suddenly and I wanted to curl up in his jacket and be in his mind and love what he loves and know what he knows.
This Wild Spirit is in all of us.
What an embodiment of the wild within.
This Wild Spirit.
An untamed animal.
Chaotic and utterly beautiful.
What would Jim say if he were here today? What would he say about the state of the world?
This is one that should never be tamed or tampered with.
The Wild Spirit should be free and allowed to exist,
allowed to explore his mind and his world.
What an important voice he has for us.
This Wild Spirit should have freedom over his own body and Soul. Such as we should.
Look deeply into those green eyes. Do you recognize yourself in them? The one that wonders and questions and can see beyond what has been handed to them...?
This is the Wild Spirit that will break the desk you sit him at.
This is the Wild Spirit that was not made for the 9 to 5.
This is the Wild Spirit that will not be contained and will not sit still.
Will not do as he is told.
The Wild One that will not consent.
Being free isn't for everybody. Some are more comfortable in the constraints and the rules and the bonds that tie them.
But to them I say, look deeply, explore yourself beyond the confounds and beyond the walls and you will find him there, sitting against a wall, cigarettes hanging from his lips, open to life, from a place where the SOUL KNOWS.
He will go with the wisdom of the Soul. Not something fabricated, created by a screen, or agenda, not something spoon fed, or propagated, nor attached, not domesticated, safe, tamed or trained or even educated.
...But right there from the crook of the Soul.
The inner inner inner world where shit is raw and real, painful and bright.