It’s hidden. It’s embedded within. The small discoveries I must make, that inspire me to move on. I have to spark that interest, not agitate it. I have to nurture it, water it, think about it, and care for it. I have to cup it in my hands like the fragile flower it is; not because I’m afraid it will fall and evaporate, poof in a puff of powder dust. Not because I’m afraid I will turn it over one day and realize we weren’t even playing the same game. And not because of the worries that tend to swirl around the troubled psyche, threatening to swallow it whole in a scent, a hint, a whiff of weakness.
But because a fragile flower is very hard to find?
Not even that.
Because when life hands you a lottery ticket, you say why thank you very much. And you smile back.
And you think to yourself: cinematic isn’t something you extract from the world, to carefully preserve in a glass puzzle case.
It’s just there. Make note of it and show it to the other kindred souls.
Don’t let it get mixed up with it all.
Because I was always next to the J. It just was. It always was. =)