Nick Cave, Pushing the Sky Away

I see myself running like Miracle Mike a month ago.

Then I see myself taking a plane, unpacking and sleeping. Mostly sleeping. Then jumping back to work. Being surrounded by people. Getting hungry and eating again. I had a frail but inner conviction that through distance I would be able to see things clearly.

To someone who has been searching to make sense of everything in this world, I wonder (beyond my projects) what am I doing in Mexico. I don't like to dwell on the past because I believe it doesn't define you but it seems when I have to face the decision of moving forward I have a bunch of loose ends or cables pelados that don't make sense if I choose to disregard my theories. I have countless of mental scenes that jump from one to the other, sounds that only make sense if I edit them in one way, a way too fantastic to be real. Yet, isn't reality used to blow our minds off?

Maybe we like to think we can move away from stuff and move on. But maybe some part of us gets locked up in a pink house while we walk a parallel path, unable to be freed unless one can make sense of it. I hate stuff placed under the rug, since I was little I liked to look underneath and take it out, even catalogue it. Today it seems the farther away I'm from that moment I chose to pack my bags and leave, the more restless I become. Can anyone look back at this moment and choose to disregard it because it makes existence even more uncertain? 

My project has come to the usual halt every project has. Budget. I have to find ways of funding and that's never easy. I'm making powerpoint presentations, trying to meet people that would be interested in sponsoring. Artists have become little entrepreneurs in themselves but that's what we do, we keep pushing the sky away, no matter what, trying to make sense of it, even with a sense of havoc, loss and imaginary heartbreak underneath.