Like a first grade teacher, I issued quick instructions to myself. Go pee, you need water and get back in your seat and space as quickly as possible. Flow state, welcome back. I’ve learned what this moment is called by the experts. Comfy, dark, relaxing, peaceful, woke with enough peace to go back to sleep. I feel safe and relaxed enough to grab my phone and start typing and talking to you. Did I include the fan I left on last night and it’s blowing a soothing breeze? It’s dark in here and the only light I can see is that which comes from this screen glowing. I’m using my right eye to see. My left one is probably still sleep. Wait, gotta go. I’ll be back.
As I climb back in bed relieved, I notice the clock says 5:59 am. I slept in and it’s cool. I can hear the ringing in my ear. It’s from an old military war wound or probably loud headphone abuse. Who can deny the bass and treble? The whomp and clap. If your speakers didn’t shake and rumble, it wasn’t the bass. Too much treble emitting from someone’s car was labeled cooking bacon. You just sizzling. The hood has issued you a failing grade.
Maybe this is what the zone is really all about? Being present in this moment, seeing and feeling it all. The cool fan breeze is becoming unbearable but I refuse to turn it off. Instead I build a fortress with my cover to shelter me from the winter wind. Bathroom runs, zones and winter winds? I’m really not sure how something profound can arise from this? I won’t give up.
Can you imagine the life of a model? It’s a life of posing. The life of dressing up and sitting still in natural and fabricated scenarios. Makeup, odd clothing, short snack breaks and compromising poses seem to be at the top of issues plaguing a model’s life, outside the fact that this world makes the photographers more important than the poser. His or her ability to capture me is graded and valued higher than the subject? How insulting! The orange billed, blue wing, speckled foot woodpecker in action, places second in importance to the camera dude? This world always gets it wrong. We place the greater value on the wrong stuff. Think about it!! The bull or the bull rider? The kite or the string? The foot or the shoe? The cheese stick or the marinara sauce? Money or time? The donut or the maple glaze and bacon? Bingo!!!
It seems as if we’ve traveled a long way through the jungles of Mexico to find such a rare pepper as this. To be sold at such a high price, wrapped in burlap sacks, let’s get the hell out of here. The humidity, the mosquitoes, and the death defying flight home on a stolen, rebuilt, one engined, dingy Cessna, causes my blood pressure to skyrocket but I guess it’s worth it. I did it all for you my friend!! Did I mention we will jump and the peppers will be pushed out the plane at 14,000 feet? Who cares about the small insignificant details. No need to worry, Let’s rock!!! If you’ve missed it, here’s the pepper Poncho!! Value that which God blesses you with correctly!! Let me repeat it: Value that which God blessed you with correctly!! It’s 6:51 am.
Buckle up and Oh yeah, I love you
#PonchoWIL
therealwil.com 
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