“The purpose of art is not a rarified, intellectual distillate—it is life, intensified, brilliant life. – Alain Arias-Misson
I stepped into the deep end early this morning, plunging straight down to touch the bottom and felt my body slowly rise with thousands of bubbles tickling my skin as we all escaped to the surface together. I slowly rolled over as we reached our destination and looked at the blueness of the sky broken by the oak leaves that were finally, grudgingly waking up to Spring to join the maples in leafing out. The sunlight streamed through them all, coaxing them awake to dance with the light. Of all my morning routines, the plunge is the one I love the most. When you live in the north you think about these moments in the frozen months. You welcome them back with ecstasy in Spring and reluctantly return them to memory in Autumn. These are the moments when the world disappears and you feel most alive.
I write to wring out these moments of aliveness and capture them in words. To dance with the light and rise above the depths of routine. And I seek out co-conspirators, searching for the vibrancy of fellow light dancers betrayed by subtle actions and a twinkle in the eye. If art intensifies the brilliance of life, the like-minded amplify it and coax you to do more, just as the sunlight draws out those oak leaves. And when you can’t always find them in the wild, you might read their words or see their art and know you aren’t the only one. We all rise together, like a chorus or a thousand bubbles swirling from the depths to break the welcoming surface once again.