Embrace the Black.

In the darkness is every color, every shade and shimmer so often forgotten, because those who see, only see black. In such pitch resides the tides of imagination, and the heightening of other sensations for those who embrace it. Colors become temperatures and moods; where red is hot and passionate, and blue is cold and somber. Green is fresh and tranquil, filled with the sounds of wildlife. Yellow is the warmth of the sun, beating down and reaching out to tan (and sometimes burn) flesh where ever it touches. Purple becomes the sense of royalty and richness. So cool it may feel hot.

In the black, wishing for color you are not. In the obsidian abyss the seeing eyes bring on the fear of the unknown, unwitnessed, where the more attuned body, absent sight, meets a challenge without the weight of dread. They shed their seeing perception and take in the world with smells, vibration and tones.

Red become cooking meat, accompanied by the yellows, greens and oranges of belled peppers simmering on the stove. Blue is the cool security of the plate which sings to the ear and jolts in the hand when it's placed on a counter top. The fork is conductive metal, carrying the tremor of every tap, and soaking in the heat of your own hand. Metal. Reflective of all the colors in their infinite shapes, skewed by the mold of its own, and though such reflections can't be seen in the swallow of every shade, its there as sure as the secure grip of your fingers. Fingers which feel far more, sensitive digits of an architect, forever building within the mind, the objects they may find.

Even the seeing sort crave to embrace the black, throwing their heads back and closing their eyes to dance to the rhythmic tide of moving music on a dance-floor. They strive for the all encompassing space of visual nothingness-- to simply feel the ebb and flow of the beats, the writhing of passionate bodies in motion, like snakes caught in the trance. But for those with eyes that can often lie, the cascading cadence of utter surrender to the darkest shadows, only last for a few moments.

For the uniquely fortunate ones who live in the black, the ability to surrender to its power is always there. To feel life in all its moments, the way dancers try. To smell the way a chef may attempt to whiff the latest masterpiece. To hear the thrum of souls the way musicians try to get lost in the music.

There is more life in the darkness than the seeing know, and it's up those who live within it, to guide them, remind them, to embrace the black.

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