The Sydney Opera House is marvelous. I’ve flown over it a few times but never saw it up close until today. Standing beside it offers one of those rare and remarkable moments where you find yourself pondering the perfection of Art.
I’ve mentioned before, a video of me reading a spoken word piece was played there once. And although I received an invite, I didn’t go. I didn’t go because there was no one over here that was excited about it. There were people I wished were excited. I crashed into nervous breakdown mode and decided not to travel to the event.
Considering that the Opera House was somewhere in my peripheral vision essentially the entire time I was in Sydney, I’ve thought about this a lot over the past few days.
Sometimes it’s concerning how much we let other people, or society, damage us. I’m not harping on history, what’s passed is past. But there was certainly a dose of revelation while I was standing on the harbor letting the wind knot my hair. I might not ever understand how I reached a point where I would let anyone blind me of special things in life, but I know I’ll never let it happen again.
I guess what I’m trying to say is when there’s an official launch of my first full-length book… I’ll show up at the opening.
Probably wearing completely inappropriately high heels…