Beauty, Wonder and Werewolves

The world in which I want to live, and the one I wish to share with all who will join me, is one where the very purpose of our lives is to simply experience the beauty and joy of every moment. Such joy as found in the breath of wind, softly rustling through the dancing leaves and caressing our skin. Or in the melodic whispers of night birds, adding their voices to the burbling of the creek and the rasping cacophony of cicadas, merging all into song celebrating the purity and wonder of life. In this world, the glittering stars wheel silently above while the soft face of the moon reflects our wondering gaze back upon us.

Through my art and my words, I wish to share the beauty of such a world with you. I ask you to, however fleetingly, see the world as I do. I want you to see the wonder and mystery and beauty all around us. I want us, together, to see the world through the eyes of the children we used to be.

When I was about nine years old, I saw a story on Tulsa's Channel 8 News about a werewolf sighting in Lawton, OK. A man reported seeing a creature crouched beside his swimming pool. He said the creature was man-like but covered in shaggy fur. As he watched, the creature leaped a full twenty feet across the pool, bounded over the fence and was gone. He claimed it was most certainly a werewolf. In my child's mind, this was the greatest news story of all time. It was proof that there was more to the world than what grownups wanted us to believe. More than anything, I wanted to believe that werewolves were possible. That would mean that all things were possible... gnomes, fairies, vampires, myths and monsters of all kinds. Aliens could land at any moment. I might learn to talk to animals, or even sprout wings and fly into the clouds. Nothing was impossible. The world was mystery and wonder. While I really didn't expect to see these things, I so badly wanted to live in a world where it was at least a possibility.

These days, as I slow down after a long, successful, and mind-numbingly dreary corporate career, I choose to believe that our knowledge of the world is much less complete and much more fragile than we admit. I choose to believe that there is much more to our world than we can see. I choose to believe that we are so limited in our sensory perceptions and so arrogant of our wisdom, that we are blind to the magic in the world around us. In the end, I choose to refrain from ruling out the possibility that my wildest fantasies could actually exist.

In choosing such suspension of disbelief, I open myself to a world of awe and wonder, of mystery and possibility. In this world, there is a possibility, however slight it may be, that the fireflies flitting about my darkened yard are actually tiny sprites, sprinkling pixie dust about the garden. There is a possibility that the owls I hear calling to each other in the trees are actually seeking me out, delivering me a message, beckoning me to follow a hidden path. Just because we cannot understand it, measure it, reduce it down to harsh scientific jargon and mathematical formulas does not mean it cannot exist. And where such possibility exists there also exists profound mystery and heart-aching beauty. If we can only silence the grownup voices in our heads and open ourselves to the world as seen through the eyes of a child, then we can live in the simplicity and beauty of the moment.

This worldview is my personal Hundred-Acre Wood, where every moment promises wonder and adventure. I ask all who would to please join me and share my world. Let us live every moment in the moment, experiencing the beauty of all creation. Let us live free from regret of the past and anxiety of the future. Let us walk together in a world of purity, wonder and beauty. So please, take my hand, suspend disbelief, and let us explore the world anew.