i wish more than ever that i could bottle up this past hour, running down the waterfront this balmy october morning. the type of weather where your hands tingle themselves silly and you run a little faster to stay a little warmer. words fail, pictures fall short, videos scratch the surface of this indescribable feeling. how can i help you see the world the way i did in that moment? i could wax poetic a million times about the autumn leaves — the honeylocus leaves the perfect shade of canary such that they glow under the withering sun’s gaze; the fuzzy shadows they cast against grey boardwalk; the one tree by bpc esplanade’s right angle that stays green, save for one patch of yellow. i’ve been trying to take pictures but they never end up quite right. my own corenas are overwhelmed by the sun’s withering gaze, so i sympathize with my poor fujifilm, its sensors confused by the contrast caused by high noon, the intense shadows and overexposed brights. i don’t know what goes behind a good run — all i know is that run was great. i don’t know why i run — just that it unlocks a feeling of happiness i can’t manufacture otherwise. when i turn the corner and witness manhattan unfurl itself before my eyes, city scraping endless sky, it feels like everything fell in place to make this moment. i’d imagine i could take a video of the run and stick a vr headset on you, brain-in-a-vat style, bump up your endorphins, so you could picture how i felt. but all i wish is for you to experience the same thing i just felt.
i know why i write. it’s because i am helplessly inept at articulating how i feel, and this round-about-over-dramatic spiral is the only way i know how. maybe this is why we keep writing about the same things — happiness, love, friendship, all of the above. we are in constant pursuit of the perfect way to convey these feelings to each other, and we never quite get it. but this indescribable feeling is worth trying.
fall last year i picked up the unbearable lightness of being for attraction to the title alone. what do you mean, a lightness so magnificent it’s unbearable? it’s an innate spirit that you cannot encapsulate (a pattern language) these are the moments that move me to write. so moved by the amount of life i’ve lived it spills out uncontrollably. i write better from positive / bittersweet feelings as opposed to negativity. my inspiration to write comes from a permeability to wonder.
we are chasing this nameless feeling. technology attempts to reverse-engineer this serendipity.