Passion

Have you ever sat in a small dim lit lounge, with the tannins of a vintage Merlot stimulating your palate, while a live jazz band plays so close you could reach out and touch them? Naively looking toward a combination of life long talent, composed in a causal setting, creating the perfect synergy for an abstract impromptu performance. Everything about this place screams PASSION, from the layout of the bar, to the texture of it's counter tops, you know your walking into the nest of a vision that became a reality.

I am a glutton for passion, there's nothing more appealing to me then being immersed around people creating what they love. Whether it be a live band, or a casual conversation about the things that moves someone. I love the intimacy that can be experienced when the person becomes the vessel, as their passion takes the driver seat. Like a sixth sense, this passion becomes an extension of ourselves, shaping the way we see our surroundings, influencing the way we move, communicate, hear, see, make love, have sex, dance, or even compels us to do nothing at all, to just sit back and close your eyes.

This passion asks nothing but to be let go, to allow it to use whatever unique characteristic you already poses, and under normal circumstances have done a lot of therapy trying to escape. A place where everyone can have an experience, despite intention. A sort of interconnected thread, a global subjectivity, a passion manifested is the nectar that motivates action, and the poison that stifles dissuasion.

So if you see a girl with long straight hair standing in the front row, seemingly undressing your passion with her eyes, it's probably me, or a lover of passions such as myself. We hear you, and thank you for being the motivation that encourages us to do what we love too.