As I step to my workbench, putting my dydidium shades on my face, my thoughts dissipate from the day’s or week’s experiences and feelings. Everything, every thought, exits the “building” of my brain as the process begins. I organize my tools, for accessibility, I lay out glass rods and color stretchers with no anticipation of any specific desired goals-only to have everything in comfortable range. I pull a pack of cigarettes and lighter out of my pocket, savoring the last nic fix prior to my day’s meditation. Then as the last drags cease to calm my nerves, I turn the dial to release the propane. That smell… the smell of suffocation, and fuel, explosiveness and creation. I love that smell. It signals the entrance into my meditation. My lighter strikes at the head of the torch, and with a whoosh-a soft bushy orange flame appears in front of me. Adjusting the dials, tweaking the oxygen and the propane just right, until the whistle of a perfect flame begins to emerge. The ambient sounds escape my environment, the surrounding air begins to move away from me as it heats, and the process begins. This is the time when my focus is an absence of any linear focus, when my goals and creations are free to the will of the flame and my heart. This is my meditation.
~jack 01/24/08
