Thoughts + Musings

The following was originally written on September 4, 2022 on an old Olympus typewriter in my apartment in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. I would like to revive it here, for the moment I inhabit now. Additions are in brackets.

I want to focus on redefining the use of my voice. To start, I need to first define how I use my voice presently - from there I might more acutely determine just how the workings of this mind ought to be transmuted into a true expression of conscious awareness.

Much of my expression occurs behind the work I produce [for others]. A video edit lacks egoic identification with the editor by design - to elucidate the inner workings of the one who curates story is to obscure the immersion that the story portends. External to my professional wanderings, I draw [with pen and ink] from sight that which catches my attention with little rhyme or reason (at least without OBVIOUS rhyme or reason). I think there is a thread that ties these forms together. Subtlety, meta thought, informed obliqueness, masked purpose - my work feels like a root system that lies hidden by the voluminous earthy matter that contains it.

I enjoy hiding my true intentions behind a wondrous veneer, masking motifs and mental models and thematic release within the structure of an empathetic interweaving of complexities and innate simplicities.

I enjoy the sensation of knowing when my outpouring of energy and attention is received automatically - as if I have written the correct code to instantly touch upon the inner nerves that are so often protected by the great powers of rationality and logic - those walls composed by our earliest minds that contain within them the real, the authentic senses indwelling in the spirit of every person, those that, when awakened, cannot be contained or ignored for any length of time; [that place where] time does not exist.

In the chambers of the heart, clocks tick for no one. The rhythm of life is converted from temporal anxieties and false concerns to the THUMP * THUMP * THUMP of infinite life playing its tune for as long as it has with this bodily expression.

I have diverted. And this is yet another form of my true expression - form follows function. To diverge along a new path of thought is to feel within the freshness of each moment. I enjoy this hunting and pecking of the mind. I feel that I can happily play in this maze-like arena in a way that makes it seem as if I can see it from above and within all at once.

To see the expression of the heart as a mirror for the expression of all hearts, all minds, all of the lost children among us [seemingly grown adults]... this is how I see. Each path travelled by my pen, each second of music heard by the ears of those watching my stories, each movement of light found within a single frame of visual composition I have instinctively contrived, is fueled by my awareness of the infinite mind of humankind. I must speak the language of the head and the heart simultaneously - leaving nothing behind. Every word, every idea, every feeling - utterly crafted with the culminating response already known. Already loved.

I love this excerpt from my former writings. This version of me was living quite a solitary existence in New York City, unsure of what the future held and what path I might pursue to discover who Mike Marrotte truly is.

This year I will expand on this writing practice in an effort to write a novel, and in so doing I intend to discover more of who I am and how I best create.

I am inspired by the words I wrote. As odd and ethereal as they may be, I feel a sincerity behind them that permeates much of my earlier writing. And there's a lot of that earlier writing.

This way of writing is intuitive and nearly automatic, and it's been quite scary for me to share it. I've kept so much of my experience hidden in the stack of journals in my personal collection, simply because I've felt so strongly that the world wouldn't understand, that I might be mocked or judged or misunderstood.

Now I realize something that exceeds any of those fears - I am the world, and the world is me. What I feared in actuality was not the rejection of others, but in fact my own rejection of my self. And this, in a very real way, is nonsensical to me now.

I choose to write and to share in order to practice self-acceptance, and to continue unearthing the person I might become.

I write, and live, for this purpose alone.

And you're welcome to come along for the ride, if you like.