I’m sitting in an apartment looking out over Brooklyn as the sun casts 2010 across the city. In the distance the Empire State building – nearly obscured by a rising development – catches some morning warmth; glints and shards of light cascade down its faceted sides.
I’m in New York, working on album artwork and an EP release plan. Keith is in Atlanta mixing British Brains. Via text and instant message, Blake is updating and reminding me about promotion for an upcoming show while he works with Justin on future music.
We’re collaborating on a piece of art from distances of hundreds of miles. Our ideas, our music, our messages to each other, are travelling lengths of space even vaster – translated into the language of zeroes and ones and carried upon waves into orbit and bounced back down at us. Paul Simon’s staccato signals of constant information bear the mark of the cosmos become conscious of itself.
It’s a pretty astonishing paradigm, and one that we take for granted even given it’s newness. And it’s not all. Somewhere, a distant constellation is dying in a corner of the sky, its light is revealing to bright minds whether the laws that govern the universe were the same at it’s birth. Microbiologist are using telomeres – elements of cells that program their lifespan and thus their eventual death – to pull closer a cure for cancer. As night falls on the other side of the world, organizers are drawing nations into council to disband the most frightening armaments of war. Every day we’re proving that we can do better, even as some of us try to prove that we can do worse.
These are the days of miracle and wonder, everybody. We all own this place, and we can all make it in our image. Don’t forget that, and walk like you mean it. Let’s make this year better than the last, for ourselves and for those around us.
Happy New Year.