December 19, 2011

Creativity is just about making really simple connections. Whenever people ask me about my patents and how they actually came out from my brain. I always feel slightly embarrassed because in truth, I didn’t really put in the effort, they imagined. In truth, it just came right out – but if I had to really think about the process, then it would be darn hard to pin point that exact eureka moment – because it comes from having so many conversations, experiences or just having read something in the barber’s shop. I know this the answer that most people aren’t really looking for – as what they probably imagine is some blinding light followed by a crescendo of music and angels fluttering around whenever something new comes into the world; but that’s really not how it is with me. I’ve always been curious – when I was a kid, I remembered stripping a radio set right down to its chassis and putting it back again. Because a neighbor had told me little men lived in the box. In middle school, I was really interested in rockets and I made one with my neighbor Homer, that was eventually confiscated by the police – it seems we had broken some law and I remembered getting really angry because all I really wanted to do was to put my camera into the nose and blast it off just to take a few pictures. Then there was this time, just after university when everyone was really focused on getting a job – there I was with my newly minted degree, but it didn’t seem that much of a big deal to me – instead I decided to take my bike to see France – when I reached there, I said to myself, now that I’ve seen France, maybe, I should pop down to Italy – I did that, and after that Poland. But one day when I had resigned myself to return back home – I found myself staring out into the vast expanse of Russia. I can still remember that feeling that coursed through my veins that evening. Somewhere nestled in that vastness, I reasoned mystery was furiously at work – maybe it was the breeze, maybe the sweet hum of the cylinders between my legs – or maybe, I just had a full tank of gas – I said what the hell, since I am here. I might as well see Russia. So I winged it. Russia changed everything for me – not only did it change my outlook profoundly, but it also made me very comfortable with the idea of desolation and loneliness. After my Russian trip by bike, I returned back home and got a job. But it was never the same again. I realized somewhere deep within me an imperceptible shift had begun, may have been ever so slight, but nonetheless it changed many things in my life thereafter. During that period, I would usually hang out all by myself and that was when I began to notice others such as myself.
I would often see these men, they all had that same look in their faces – a mix of resignation and what I can only describe as an indescribable despair that comes from having led a life of compromises– usually we would stop and look at each other like two stray cats – transfixed, each cocooned in their own thoughts – it’s a vampire thing Eva, either you can sense it or you can’t and if you can’t then there is really no point in trying to explain it – but there was definitely something primal that passed between us that goes beyond the whole idea of just casual friendship. A sort of tacit understanding – OMG! There are actually people like me! I am not so weird after all. As the years passed Eva, I found more and more of these lost souls, in darkened basement Kendo halls, deserted mountain biking trails, in the desolation of the high seas, the foot of cold mountains. That was when I discovered the Brotherhood Eva. Or should I say, they discovered me.

Darkness 2011


The Suriman Tales – The Brotherhood Press 2011

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: