The logic and the artist stood shoulder to shoulder.

We rode in a car together.

Him in the front seat, me in the back seat. We spoke about life and it’s up’s and downs, and how different we were, yet we both appreciated the feeling of being free.

We spoke about being free in different words, different dialects, and almost felt like different languages.

We spoke about how I am a creative; an artist. How I naturally see the world one way, and him being a business person he could only see the world in one way. But it fascinated him how artists think so differently, as if we travel to another world to be free. I threw my head back with a laugh that came out of my chest, so deep and buried in so far. The truth is that we, as artists, never feel at home here. Never here in our bodies, never here on this land – land. It’s true. It’s true that we have to go somewhere else, somewhere else in our heads to be who we are. So we go there to visit home to work on what our Soul’s are searching for. Then we create and metamorphosis to transition ourselves to get our creative genius out of us, where we can then connect with the world in this reality.

It’s so true and it’s so beautiful.

I thought all day yesterday, before and after this incident, about our own truths. Specifically how logic and emotion share a same land in the minds, yet they are almost always at war which each other.

Mid-day I went to a local mall that is equally divided by stores for those who can only afford a specific limit, and another part of the store where it is designed to not have any limits on consumption or worth. I visited both stores, watched many people from all avenues of life just shop everywhere. In one store, my favorite store, I stood shoulder to shoulder with someone who looked like a business /logical mind find another shade of gray or tan to match the rest of his bland colored, yet beautifully made of higher quality textiles to fit the rest of the items in his arms. I stood there searching for a men’s sweater – to be standing the men’s department of this store with no men with me is already the kind of glimpse I got from many. We stood in that small space going through the same rack of well-knitted sweaters.

The logic and the artist stood shoulder to shoulder, looking to consume the same object. Ironically, logics don’t really care about making fools of themselves, because they don’t take things personally. Artists do this because they work with their emotions to release them; to share them.

Sometimes I wonder if logic and emotion have to connect together to become one person, and if you have one artist and one logic, is it meant that they metamorph together in order to experience a rebirth?