I do not fear death.
I fear being forgotten.
What will be my stamp on this universe?
And why does it matter?
Life can be so relentlessly mundane. Traffic drowns individual sounds into a wash of meaningless surrounds. We drift along hearing everything but nothing at the same time. If we only choose one small wavelength on the infinite spectrum of frequencies we can find something of meaning and beauty. So I’m searching for that wavelength that connects me to you. I write about it, sing about it and create about it.
And what is my wavelength? For me it’s that primal yell scratching at the frequency of the universe. Always asking why? Always asking how? It is Auguste Rodin’s ‘Thinker’. It is the bloody battle of the introvert and the extrovert. Telling myself to engage with the world but ending up disillusioned when I do. I can be so philosophically entwined that actual functioning comes second. Has it always been like this? Or have I skewed my perception of reality by eating the fruit of the forbidden tree(s).
What will bring me back to the gracious present? What will affirm my existence? It must be song. I’m a broken junkie without my guitar or my pen or my voice. Where’s my next hit? Where’s my next line?
My loneliest moment came standing on a crowded street corner waiting to cross the road. I had forgotten an umbrella and the torrential Sydney rain had started. I looked around hoping to catch an eye but only saw monkey necks bent aggressively downwards, determined not to engage in reality. Tears came to my eyes because I knew nobody would see them. It inspired a song:
…My neon heart is flickering
My eyes are playing tricks on me
I’m weeping at a red light in the rain
My soul is out of battery
My words are out of flattery
Slowly I am drifting away…
From “Drifting” 2016
words by Sam Muir aka Sam Saint Jones
Mother Agency: Kult Australia
London Agency: SUPA
Photography by Manon Ouimet
www.manonouimet.com
