Thank you for Twisted Dreams and Genius.
Genius ain’t pretty.
Genius also ain’t necessarily Einstein, Tesla, Hawkings, or a Tibetin Lama (insert any man of “sacred” cloths and texts) that can get girls to dance for him and folks to give him stuff cause he’s just that holy.
Genius is like raw sugar. If you have too much of it, it can socially rot you like a bad tooth in the head of a lonely Ogre. Genius is that immense creative capacity in any field that forces us to do what we must do at the expense of anything we must sacrifice— social standing, financial security, vacant associations, etc..
Genius will not be ignored by those who must carry it in their hearts like music or their heads like words or their bodies like dance or their squinting eyes like art.
Genius will well up from a person like lava and paralyze them if they try to go get a normal job or act like they don’t already have a “job”.
It will sneak into your dreams at night and insidiously twist you around like you are made of silly putty until you think ya might be nuts. It will yell at you through the mouths of angry taxi drivers and crying babies. It will hauntingly whisper to you through night rains and morning sparrows until you think ya might be nuts!
Genius will make you lonely, tell you there are no other lovers for you sans Genius, force you to take it’s hand and be led down the anti-popular path of social iniquity and intermittent isolation.
Then…Something beautiful happens—angel choirs sing, paint brushes fly, voodoo dancers go into trance, the Oracle speaks and there is art.
I am thankful for weird dreams and those times I think I may be nuts (I may very well be).
I am thankful to listen and explore the genius of others when the opportunity arises.
I am thankful for that genius that resides in humans that cannot be explained by Darwin.
I am thankful for the artists, poets and composers that could not escape Genius.