Whenever the internet turns my world into a flat cartoon maze that ties my synapses like shoe laces, or when I close my eyes at night and my brain replays comedians who exist only on Saturday night, when the best things that happened to me that day were funny lines from Ted, the lawyer on Scrub’s or when the evening news, preoccupied with gore and glamor, is scrambled into a bouquet set on stun, I go out onto the street, throw off my body, dump my mind and feel naked for the first time every time, and take a walk in the Void.
I set my eyes for a tree that I’ll pass by in about twenty steps. I explain to myself that as soon as I reach that tree, I will leave my body behind and step into the Void. I count the steps. I near the tree. I move up to it on the sidewalk. I pass through an invisible wall and step out the other side. I step into that space that lies in between the atoms of my body. I unhook my identity from those billions of tiny temporal pulsing atomic scale metronomes and slip into the vastness of the cool space between the atoms, the void. That emptiness that defines the space between the atoms is a single phenomenon that continues outward to the stars, seamlessly. It holds the stars like children at its breast. The stars are its babies, the galaxies, ripe fruit in its arms and atoms are as vast to it as spacious galaxies. Ever farther outward it goes, past human imagination. As one’s view expands outward toward infinity, what appears to be a universe becomes smaller, more compact and assembles itself into familiar objects, a cup, a leaf, a box of chocolates on a dresser. This is the nature of infinite space. So far does this Void stretch that our universe recombines into a tea cup or a spot upon a pink napkin set for a banquet, or after the feast, headed for the laundry. It makes no difference if our universe is on spin cycle or a toasting glass of wine in another cosmic scaled-up universe. Yet, stepping into the Void, one knows it all must be there. As the Australian aborigines are fond of saying, “Have you any idea how long eternity is?” As I am fond of saying, “Have we any idea how far and away infinity can stand and look back upon itself, only to see a computer screen in a room not unlike the one you or I may be in.”
I take my walk in the Void, and move through that emptiness that lies between all that is now, has ever been or shall ever be.
Painting ( A Walk in The Void) and article by:
Paint Rag Magazine