Life’s vibrancy is not sucked away by the black hole of death, rather it is drained through the radiant white hole of intoxication. To live, life must shine. It is the shine of intoxication which prescribes life’s destiny, unfolding its possibilities. If life shined not, being would be deaf to the joys and sorrows of
existence, silent to the empathy which defines our humanity. If life shined not, living would be blind even unto itself, unable to see the essence of its inner being. If life shined not, interiority would be isolated from the elementality which sustains its presence, cut off from those melodious interactions with exteriority which gives substance to existence. If interiority were silent, art would be mere
surfaces, devoid of depth. The surfacing of interiority is the essence of art. Its surfacing not only
sustains art, it is also a sign of existence’s embrace of the soul. In that embrace, life is able to confront its fears, confess its vulnerabilities, and acknowledge its limitations. Only then can the spirit be liberated from the encirclement of mortality. Death’s presence must entice life to burn the flames of unquenchable torment for those flames must penetrate the deepest caverns of our soul in order to awaken the spirit unto itself. This flame, which is destined to consume itself, must illuminate falleness, in order to light the way toward our redemption.