Split.

My mind has indeed bifurcated.  Officially. The numbers do not lie.  The thoughts in my brain are always whizzing about at such a blistering speed that I challenge Einstein’s Theory of Relativity that “no particle that has mass can travel as fast as the speed of light—about 186,000 miles per second.”

Ah but is a thought a particle?  No. Thoughts are “impulses of electricity . . . .”   How fast do electrical impulses move? Guessing from research, that depends on the size of the neuron but for the most part about 250 m.p.h.  S-L-O-W.

So what I think is fast – isn’t.  But in terms of recognition, it is – fast.  So in short, the changes that have taken place in my cranium may seem slow when compared to the speed of light, but in reality, they are more comparable to the leatherneck sea turtle when traveling on the land about 6 m.p.h.  This changes to about 21 m.p.h. In water. Still not fast – fast, but still not that slow. But a change nonetheless.

Point.  Cigars and Art are catching up with each other at what I consider a tremendous rate of speed.  The friends are increasing in number on social media and the communication between myself and other artists is growing exponentially.   Being asked to join art sites has been – even with my impatience, gotten out of control. I’m on long-term art crack. A slick thought of being out of my mind.

Point.  What is the point?   Growth.

Physically there are various differences in the shapes of cigars.  Figurado, Robusto, shaggy foot, smooth cap, there are cigars with caveman designs on them – no change in flavor, just appearance.  Same as art, I suppose. Although taste would be quite different. Taste in art means a preference.  Taste in cigars means, ah . . . having to do with the sensation of flavor in the mouth and on the tongue, etc., etc., etc.

What happens though is the shift has had such a noticeable effect on my consciousness, it’s like devouring donuts, and then one day the site of the fried desserts want to make me vomit.  

What do I do?  

Ponder this.

Can I fixate on both?   Donut. Coffeecake.  Green River.  Perrier Peach.  Maduro. Connecticut.  Lonsdale.  Gordo. Barberpole.  Some shit design.

Is satisfactionan element that needs to be discussed? Yes and no.

Cancel cigars? Accept art?

No.  And YES!

What, then?  Fusion during differentiation of muscle, bone, and trophoblast cells, during embryogenesis?”  (Google)

No, interest my man. Developmental dividends.  Of what? Desire. Lust. Passion.  A change, a metamorphosis? Morphing or collusion?  Shading or blacking out?

There is no explanation that will satisfy a cigar manager.  Nor a gallerist.

It’s f*@king FOCUS!

Deliberation.  Mass acceleration.  Pure glistening “Breaking Bad” powder-blue rock candy!  It’s the excitement that you’re not stuck. You can make transitions.  You can make the prayer a reality. Whatever you like and whatever you don’t like.  DO IT! Don’t be static, single, stagnant. To hell with the comments. You can’t hear them anyway if you have conviction.

PTL!  The mind is a magnificent gift.

So let your mind bifurcate.  Go for it!   SPLIT!