reminder

sometimes you may feel different from everything around you, but at the end of the day, we're all the same, but unique. it doesn't matter if you're black or white, old or young, barely 12 inches off the ground, or 10 feet tall. we all came onto this earth for a reason, and we all have to go off. so, don't be so sad.

by winona holmes, age 9.

there was nothing. i fell and stood still at the same time; the visceral darkness rushed past like i was being swallowed into the blackness of eternity. pulled apart in every direction at once, i felt i would dissolve if i resisted. i started to cry out but the sound was drawn back down my throat like a bubble of air and lodged in my stomach.

everything began to spin around me, slow and sickening like a nightmarish carnival ride. the darkness began to orbit around me, or i around it, i couldn't tell. a single point of red light flashed, out of place yet strangely familiar. it hung stationary in the mad swirling night, my only beacon. with an enormous effort i reached out with my left hand. i seemed to be clutching something already, poised to stab, to plunge into the only light in the world.

everything stopped. streaks of white light raced through the darkness, wriggling past, swimming at great speed as i watched. i was afraid. the red dot seemed friendly, safe to look at so i focused on it to the exclusion of everything else.

"i know this thing" i thought. it made no sense that i should have any reference point here, but i continued to reach for it as the last of the white lights flew by. i now saw a black rectangular shape around the red speck, blacker than the surrounding night, like some kind of portal. the red light grew in intensity and began to illuminate the darkness.

the world began to take shape around me. i was in my studio at home. i looked at the black rectangle and the red light. it was my bass rig; i was reaching out to plug my instrument cable into the amplifier. unreal but wholly natural at the same time. i knew what i had to do. i turned the volume knob on my white p-bass and struck an open d with my thumb.

beautiful sound. living sound. sound with blood coursing through it's veins. sound in the air. sound flowing like every river on earth. sound reaching up to the heavens and back.

i played. wave after wave flowed over me and past me. the vibrations came right into my soul and back out again. the open a string made the tides flow and the water crash on earth; e made the ground shake and volcanoes erupt. the world smashed apart and reassembled in an instant. twelfth fret harmonic on the g string sang with the voices of a thousand angels.

"now, michael, now!" the voices came from everywhere and nowhere. tears of electricity flowed out of my eyes and merged with the stars which now shined brightly around me. the blackness had returned and was threatening to engulf me again.

"now!" loving yet insistent.

i wound it wide open, every setting on 10. i closed my eyes. an instant of terror mixed with resolve. i knew i had to let go. i struck all four strings at once. the red light exploded in a cataclysm, a supernova of sound blew past me and i was drawn headlong through the speaker of my amp into a tunnel, an artery of vibration. time blurred, stopped and started. i felt something rushing over me, like water. i began to gasp and choke. i was drowning and i couldn't move. i heard splashing. someone grabbed me by the right hand and pulled me out of the water.

"it's ok, mako, it's ok."

i knew the voice. i stood up and wiped my eyes.

"hi, dad."