OLTL

     Have you ever seen the paint commercial; it starts with a gigantic white wall. The camera then pans to a man, paint cans all around him, with his brush he begins one stroke, one color - then another brush another color. His pace quickens. Now the brush is a weapon. He dips it in red, orange, green, purple - hurling paint onto this canvas. The music beats faster. You are inhaled by the drops of paint. The man climbs a ladder. He hurls the entire bucket onto the wall! There is texture now! Your hands ache for want of touch-on and on - buckets of paint everywhere. The rivers of paint make the wall appear alive. You can see it breathing. Holding your own breath; anticipating the next color. Willing him to move faster!  What will it be? Covered in paint, moving without thought, an amazing spectacle. So drawn are you to this now, living, breathing, palpable painting you feel a turning of your stomach. 
   Oh, for the release. The cathartic metamorphosis from white, from flat, from sameness, you are extraordinary, this is what you seek - tiny fires burning up and down your arms, deep into your skin. Oblivious to all else. Can after can until every can is empty...
   He falls to the ground, spent from fury, passion - this is his life's work. There on his knees, awash with color, he looks into his painting - into his soul - burned into his eyes images of passion, possibility, madness, joy, hunger! By comparison, the Sistine Chapel is mere child's play.
     The camera then shows his face, his breathing labored, sweat and paint mix together over his skin. And you look at this man, directly into his eyes - his passion. His acute want, no need, his acute need for more color, more cans of paint - fade to black.
     It is an amazing commercial. Truly moves you. Makes you want to do that. You know just dance without thinking. Jump without looking. Believe without fear. You might feel both glorious release and tender taking in. Possibility appears abundant.
     You could almost stay there. At such a heightened awareness. Awash in color and light. It is glorious! Falling in love feels that way.
    Ah, but such promises to keep. Promises are like kites; depending on which way the wind blows they may take flight or they may remain grounded.
     And with your tethered soul lusting for want of release, with a bag of stones - safely build a wall. Odd isn't it how we seek solitude just when we most need others. OH, for such a price - would you paint that wall again? Could you?
     What would be a fair asking price for a second chance? Sure you would pay any price. This is what we learned. Always give hope a chance. We are greater for the letting in.
     Maybe I will get another tattoo. This one with colors. Be safe. Be well. Be happy. Amen!