“I am the founder of Nowhaus,
The home where Life becomes Art.
It’s a halfway house, I guess you could say,
For those who have to live life more than halfway.
I don’t write or paint or sculpt, you see,
My masterpiece is this family.
I’ve built this radical sanctuary,
Where only love is revolutionary.”
~ Desi from Passing Strange
Love the doing for only then is your best work delivered. Therefore you must choose work which soothes and settles itself within the protected core of your being. Love the process for then you might mine the crevice of each moment until discovering the space which allows you to dream deeply. Deep dreams speed the pursuit towards deeper action. Orient your love towards the axis of action.
Love is not sufficiently thought or spoken. Love is done over and over again. Love is in fact overdone, overflowing and overexposed.
Love burns like the funeral pyre of the bennu bird seeking anew its resurrection. Love is a metaphor for growth as love expands to envelop all around you. Love big. Love wide. Love deep.
Love like the day is your last. Like time is escaping and all you can do is excavate every ounce of emotion to pour into this person, project, prospect or process which is your passion.
Love long. Late nights. Exhausted mornings. Disappointments which help discern meaning from this fruit of wasted labor. Love until it hurts because it always will eventually.
Love until you can let go and say with solemnity that you have loved until you could stand to love no more. Never let love lose. Love does not lose. Love always wins.
Love the struggle. Love success. Love challenge. Love change. Love changes. Love changes. Love. Change. Is.
Ain’t no luck just love of chance. Ain’t no strategy just love of planning properly. Love making preparations for opportunity.
Love community. Love push back. Love ain’t no damn crutch. Just because I love you doesn’t mean I won’t correct you severely with love.
Love people. Love the people. Love your people. Love YOUR people.
Love getting lost for in the course of navigating yourself back onto the path, you discover new avenues to make your way around those obstacles.
Love the breakdown for it gives you an excuse to dance. I said. Love the breakdown for it gives you an excuse to dance. The breakdown may not necessarily be in the middle of the song. Sometimes it arrives in traffic. Tired eyes. Nose, red and twisted. Face puffed. Searching for the peace of yourself somehow misplaced in pursuit. Love the breakdown for it gives you an excuse to dance.
Love the dance for it affords the most beautiful possible means to maneuver through a fall. The dance can make a fall look like art. Love makes dancing while falling the most perfect method of repositioning.
Love discomfort for you can learn from it. Examine it. Crack it apart like pomegranate and feast upon the seeds as Persephone hungering in a lonely space of Hades.
Love rambling, omni-directional rants for on rare occasions they are complete thoughts struggling to liberate themselves and remind you that pretty ain’t always insightful and structure does not connote utility. Sometimes that ugly and disassembled mess is a collection of puzzle pieces that will find their way together again in the reader’s mind.
Like love. Awkward and tripping all over itself. Searching for the time that is just right not knowing it has always held the metronome.
Love counts the rhythm of a beating heart and the moments left in one that is bleeding. Love is a band aid to stop the bleeding so you can put yourself back together again. Humpty Dumpty ain’t no fairy tale love.
Love is the only real revolution you have left for it is a cable tie which can draw together all the other elements you have at your disposal. If you don’t sincerely love building community, aiding people and addressing problems, your revolution will find itself a hollow gourd echoing the simple music of activity with no one to dance to the band.
Love is the wallpaper of this radical sanctuary where only love is revolutionary.