Awake O' Sleeper!

"I saw my mythic ancestor last night, moving in huge strides across the face of the earth, stepping over snow-filled mountains, spanning wide and fertile valleys, journeying, journeying, endlessly journeying. I saw him traverse warm villages and regions of ice and snow. I saw him peer into the windows of secret yeshivos and into the barracks of Siberian camps. "It's colder inside than outside," I thought I heard him say. "And what are you doing with your time, my Asher Lev?" I thought I heard him say. He said it thunderously, and I woke and lay in the darkness. Then I got out of bed and went to my desk and turned on the light."

Baby steps.

A cup can only spill that which it contains.

And here I have laid with a barren cup aching wantonly for years; my heart fraught with visions and ideas that never came into fruition due to an insatiable and inescapable fear of failure. I’ve longed for much time now to pour into something meaningful, beautiful, that speaks of anything beyond myself. Not that I have some type of Homeric expectation for this limited posting space - or that I presumably believe my work to be that of such great significance to this indifferent world brimming with talent that I can't begin to touch. Moreso, I need to place even these slight givings and returns of depth somewhere - and this spot holds an anonymity and an conceptual accountability which lends itself to form - for me - a somewhat receptive basin as to spill my seemingly insignificant drops.