“Miracles” by Emily Candace

Do you always know when it happens –

is it given to you or do you create it –

what happens if you miss it–

is it a God you have to believe in –

do you have to lay yourself bare to absorb it –

does it reject doubters –

do you have to jump and risk your existence –

Can you be afraid to die?

What is a miracle?

 

Accepting Death, paying respect to the wholeness of Life, the more you allow it, the more you are able to live and not just survive.

Giving your body and mind and heart and spirit to a lover you cannot name or taste or touch or see because your senses are stuffed with safety.

Laying your naked body down before all power. Power that portrays its capabilities relentlessly: the hideous, the gorgeous, the massive, the minuscule, the merciless, and the merciful.

Are we talking that kind of vulnerability in order to receive a miracle? The more you give up, the more you receive?

 

 

I laid my head on my friend’s chest and glimpsed inside as we collided thoughts

and the more the pieces filled the space and imposed perception,

the more we let those shapes be, risking discomfort of infinite, fastening to less and less,

a tunnel created when invisibility materialized as the byproduct of the destruction of boundaries of thought.

A space could be accessed that was further,

and in it was emotion that externalized as tears,

and in it was emotion that internalized as fears,

and words had no place to land.

 

Truth is not this or that, it is or, and it is and.

It is absolute values put to rest on our clean little zero.

It is vanished volume and mirrors so pure they show cottons on clouds, white ink on paper, pasteurized milk in a pool of white pudding, passively placing us in infinity, and it’s uncomfortable,

Because what is there?

And will it bring us back –

or keep us forever?

 

But what’s so good or bad about either/or?

The fact of the matter is just that: it is.

And the meaning applied is a paste of colors put there for eyes to play and decide what shape seems right for that place and time

and maybe it’s hideous, gorgeous, massive, minuscule, merciless, or merciful.

Maybe you don’t know what the fuck to do with it, maybe it’s an enemy, maybe it’s a friend, maybe it’s all a game of pretend, or maybe it’s IMPORTANT!  IMPORTANT! IMPORTANT!

And maybe that scares you and maybe you don’t believe that the colors of a friend could ever match the colors in your head: but I tell you now, IT CAN!

And I tell you now – If you lay yourself out, and back yourself up, and build yourself high, and don’t ask yourself why, as your carefully refrained guards allow those colors to spill onto the dance floor,

Your colors will mix with their colors and you. will. want. more.

To have your colors touched. To have your colors seen. To see other colors.

That is what life means!

We’re sensational creatures

We want the itches & the scratches & the ticks & the tocks & the ka & the ts & the bleh & the ha!

We want it all and we want it now! We want to show our WHOA and our WOW!

Do you know what I mean?

Do you feel what I’m saying?

Is it in your body as I go through these phrases?

Well, pay attention. Because with senses stuffed with safety, you can’t be seen.

And I, for one, really want to see you.

 

Emily Candace is a performing artist who was born in Minnesota, grew up in Florida, and moved to Washington in 2014, at the age of 19, having never visited before. She comes from a family of six, and most of her family currently lives in Wisconsin and Minnesota. She has always trusted her heart recklessly, landing her in some incredibly challenging situations in life. But those lessons are pouring out of her chest onto paper, as well as into the air, as music, and into our eyes as dance. After moving here, she fell in love with Tacoma and is excited to contribute to the blossoming identity of this city.