I have rarely sat down at my desk with something to say, other than I am ready. The sitting comes first, turning up with a certain alertness to possibility. Only then does the idea feel free to settle. It settles small and very tentatively, then, through your active attention, it can grow into something much bigger. Sitting in a readied state can sometimes last a long and anxious time. But you must not despair! I have never found a situation where the idea refuses to come to the prepared mind.

~ Nick Cave



If we look with curiosity at people who do not share our values, they become interesting rather than threatening. […] Cultivating a questioning mind, of which conversation is the chief instrument, enriches our relationship with the world. Having a conversation with someone I may disagree with is, I have come to find, a great, life embracing pleasure.

~ Nick Cave



The world […] is indeed a strange and deeply mysterious place, forever changing and remaking itself anew. But this is not a novel condition, our world hasn’t only recently become bizarre and temporary, it has been so ever since its inception, and it will continue to be such until its end—mystifying and forever in a state of flux.

~ Nick Cave


The interlude

On a random rainy day, I sat in seiza on the concrete, barefoot, gazing into our back yard. Everything was uniformly 53 degrees as I sat down with a mug of steaming broth. I sat under cover of the patio, but open otherwise to the sound of light rain, the gurgle of water in the downspouts, and the occasional drafts of cool air. Previous sunny days, and the current inch of rain had create an entire world of verdant green before me. The world looks different when your eyes are closer to the ground. Time passed. Some light came in.

There, in the Zen-like supremacy of the moment, on the road and adrift in this world, the nicotine would enter my bloodstream and with a blissful rush of pure meaning God would declare Himself to me – just as He did to you, Dee, on your balcony, at 21.49, on that rainy evening in Rosario, Argentina. That five minute interlude, puffing on a cigarette, in the deranged chaos of our lives – you on your balcony and me in some alley in some foreign city – was, to paraphrase Leonard Cohen, the crack where the light came in.

~ Nick Cave from, https://www.theredhandfiles.com/how-do-you-feel-about-god-really/

For countless eons, all of our kind have wondered about, sought firsthand and then shared, experiences of such interludes. Are they experiences of the divine? Self-hypnosis? Enlightenment? Semi-sleeping states? Spirituality? Meditation? …and does it actually matter what we each call them? I simply hope you have your own occasional interludes.



Nothing you create is ultimately your own, yet all of it is you. Your imagination, it seems to me, is mostly an accidental dance between collected memory and influence, and is not intrinsic to you, rather it is a construction that awaits spiritual ignition.

~ Nick Cave from, https://www.themarginalian.org/2022/01/20/nick-cave-creativity/

This is a thought which seriously concerns me; What exactly, if anything, am I accomplishing in the totality of my life? In a very micro sense, I’m simply holding back entropy ever so slightly in one minuscule niche of the universe. I like to imagine this is like pushing the cuticles of my finger nails back: Comforting and aesthetically pleasing, but ultimately pointless because my nails continuously grow until they don’t at which point I won’t care any more. I’m not being morbid or pessimistic here. There’s nothing wrong with that micro-scale getting things done. I take comfort in the fact that pushing entropy back a bit is—quiet literally—all that anyone can do.

It’s when I shift to a much larger scale that things look quite rosy. I sleep well at night, (both literally and figuratively,) because I like who I am becoming, and I plan to keep at it. Along the way, a quite large number of people have said the equivalent of “what you did there made my life a little better.” What more could one attempt?