“Blue an open door to soul/An infinite possibility/Becoming tangible…”
Derek Jarman
I don’t know what it takes to make art in the face of death. To see the blue becoming darker, the grayscales washing over any sunset that used to stand. How to leave something permanent with such temporary fingers. Making something immovable with a mind that is about to leave you. I do not know what it takes.
I do know about the choice on the ledge. That one we all have stood on. Maybe I did not see you there, but I know we have both been on the ledge. Where you turn your neck to see what is behind you, and you see the hands grabbing at you—pulling you to stop—and in front of you is the sky, blue in all its possibilities, never-ending in a potential—and in the middle is you.
On the ledge.
Knowing that the free fall is scary.
That the free fall takes risk.
That the hands pulling you back can feel like a hug if they squeeze hard enough.
And you do not know if you have what it takes to jump through the sky.
Surely defeat in disguise as rest would feel so good.
But you do jump.
You do not know why,
Maybe it is something like courage.
The same thing that makes you kiss the guy you like. Or leave home with just your bag. Or tell that bouncer not to touch your friend. Or to quit that job and try to write. Or to put on that skirt. Or to shout “you can’t fucking call me that”. Or to square up to someone twice your height. Or to love as many people as you can in one summer. Or to share that secret. Or to come out again and again and again and again.
Maybe it’s something like courage.
That makes you free fall through the sky.
That makes us all jump off that ledge.
And to feel so alive.
