Once more he descends

“Inspire me!” he howls. The frustration echoing loud through the room.

“Step away” came the voice, the gentle caress of a whisper, fading almost before it had begun. That cold sheen of silk pulled across skin, comforting yet alien, the voice soothes him once again. Closing his eyes as the colours flow, emotions swirl vivid in technicolour, washing from blue to red, anger to love.

But he will not. He remains there, resolute in his determination. This has worked before and will work again. He will see this through, it’s all he knows, all he can do. The world washes white, then colour floods his view once more.

He is drawn through purple and green, closer still, knowing what he seeks is a fragment beyond his grasp, that translucent clarity will reveal itself in moments. Consumed, it’s all he can consider, totally, willingly focussed. The room slips away from him as he graps and grapples towards his sanity and the tortured salvation he seeks.

Behind his eyes, colours swirl and merge in the raging torrents and deep pools of his mind. Emotions cascade, tumbling through thoughts, eclipsing everything whilst he searches for the light, the release, the answer.

Suddenly, peace. A quiet resonate. He has arrived.

Blinking against the sudden, dazzling light he opens his eyes to a room that dazzles and glows. Quietly the voice rewards him, praises him, comforts him. He smiles, knowing the worst is over for now. One day he will heed the voice, one day he follow and learn more, one day he will step away and be inspired in other ways, he will accept what he didn’t know as true, he will succumb and no longer suffer his way through.

But, for now, he is happy and content. The room tilts back towards normal and with a slow smile he reveals what he knows, offers it up and finally placates her. She quietly approves and relaxes her grip, and as he breathes once more his mind spirals back to the beginning.

White slashed black, curls and lines form and dance, circles and dots wash into view. His fingers furious now, desperate to capture it all, to fill the void.

The words spill and dazzle, inspired by light, daubed in vivid colour.

He relaxes and calm descends.

And he types on.

Written By

Long time blogger, Father of Jack, geek of many things, random photographer and writer of nonsense.

Doing my best to find a balance.

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