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We’ve been up all week, my worldwide friends and I, in front of luminated screens that radiate less than the content within them. Our eyes are the red of creative insomniacs…the same red, in fact, as the hearts and circles entangled within the wiring of the glowing electricity projecting onto our pores. The same red as the passionate lovemaking creatively known to be collaboration; when a poem is unionized with its perfect voice, and furthermore entangles itself in the throes of a musical odyssey, or perhaps visual imagery. When a simple sketch has such allure as to reel in motion reels, likewise returning the favor by lending itself at any time to prose. It all works together to create a sweet, beautiful, inspiring moment that is captured to memory and time, and stored for future RECreation, REjuvenation, and REvelry.
This bright red running through the frenzied glare of our eyes courses through us entirely, hitting our heart, and whispering sweet nothings to return the favor and hit the hearts of the phosphorescent invisible fields pulsating in front of us; connecting us to someone we may have never had the pleasure of meeting in physical time, but respect and admire. Collectively, through the influence of such persuasion that the flow has over these global amis and I, we continue to hit hearts through our fingertips. We create a global pulse; a beat so strong and commanding, not many a person can leave untransformed in some way.
At HitRECord, the enchanted participate in a welcomed community of similarly like-minded, red-eyed souls. Red buttons reflect our desire to create something to BE desired. This want that we have for records that inspire us so urges us to take originality to a higher level of alteration and REinterpretation. What may have spawned from the sparks behind one’s red eyes and beating heart then becomes REillustrated and transferred to another’s, creating a separate spark that generates its own light, and the collective community burns brighter. And another remix from that REnewed pulse then REcycles thoughts to REgenerate new art. And again. And again and again.
It may be perfectly silent when we arrive at our desks, living rooms, kitchens, and bedrooms. The silence decreases, however, when ears are filled with the beats created by our hands drumming on the table, our voice slamming over a stanza, the slap of our bass, the muted scratch of our paintbrush, our mouse clicking furtively to lasso that layer.
A compulsion, some might say…but to those people, I recommend that they come and experience the pull and joy of creative insomnia, the delirious feeling of inspiration, and the supportive collaboration and communication between the genii that such an artistic community harbors.
To those people, I challenge them.
HitRECord for yourself. And for us.
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