Nell you’re a fucking seer. It freaked me out to hear it. I didn’t know what to say, what to do. Actually, I minimised that email and felt I should show it to Hayley but didn’t. I was afraid of what it would do. But it was hanging over me the whole day. Then in the afternoon, I had to address it. It was there now. There was no escaping it. It had been materialized out of thin air by some ghost from Byron. In an email! I sat down, wanting to ‘connect’ and started talking about our lack of connection with our lives, and with each other. We’ve been trying to get by, ride through the storm kind of thing. Each in our own way. I’m not usually of that mind. I normally get anxious. I’m sure each of my friends have heard me complain at some point of being numb, empty, lacking. But that was me raging against my apathy. This has, lately, been an apathy to my apathy. Ironically, because every state of apathy before has been followed by a period of intense creativity. So I just saw it as an inevitable dip before a rise. But fuck, maybe each dip was followed by the rise due to my anxiety of being in the dip. How dare I accept a dip. I can’t accept dips, dips are death. Dips are holes that drag you down. Sand pits of stillness and emptiness. One is filled with anxiety in such states due to the absolute creative danger of these states. I am intelligence. I feel if there’s anything I can attribute to myself its the pursuit of knowledge. Love of information. My problem has been with this vessel I’m using to pursue this knowledge. This faulted, limited body. Even harder is living in this practical world, the world of logistics. While I love this world of infinite, creation, what Graves’ calls the White Goddess, our muse, I need to keep a foot, or a toe, in this other realm. This realm of degrees, social circles, names, titles. Its fucking with my head though, cause the two contradict each other. Its doublethink. But I haven’t even been struggling. Some other part of my brain has taken over. Kicked into autopilot. But the stillness is getting too much and almost simultaneously all my close friends have started coming out of the woodwork. Almost like we can all smell what we have to give each other. Smell it through the internet, over wireless networks that travel via human consciousness. Josey called me, he’d been kicked out of his house, and we talked art, we talked like normal, he just wanted someone to connect to. And I could do it. Amidst this nothingness if someone hits the right buttons, the right sounds come out. Its possible. The potential is within is always. All that can happen is that we can forget. The spark, the energy goes on uncaptured. A meaningless death. But the potential is always there. Moments of caffeine, moments of friendship like when Josey first came down from India and we walked the streets talking of singularity, art, artists, things we love. Other times, morning, night, I have ideas, I can get writing going. It can come, it can go. When we pursue art we’re trying to capture it. Understand it. We can’t, not while we have our foot in this realm. But we get glimpses. We bring back artifacts. So fuck. In short, I’m trying to say thank you Nell. Thank you for your dream. Thanks for sparking a change that needed to happen. That I hope was bound to happen, but perhaps needed an outside spark. Momentum’s been building. Creation is amongst us. Raina is in Melbourne. I’m meeting with him and Fuller tomorrow morning before Fuller goes up to Byron. You should see him while he’s up. He’s good. We’re all good. As Molly said we need to be together. Connectedness is life. We are knowledge. I am going back to University. I’m studying Neuroscience, I’m fucking excited. I’m looking for a studio, and I’ve been drawing again, writing more. Brain potions aplenty. Both Hayley and I await your arrival. There is so much for us to do. Each of us and all of us.

- Colby