The Truth About the Death of My Mother (a conversation)

Inspiration sometimes comes from the least expected places. In recent months, I have found myself desperate for it- for that spark inside of someone else to reignite my own burned-out light.

I have been in a new state for months now, leaving all of my friends back in Seattle behind, with only the internet and an occasional phone call keeping me going. I am always alone and I am always very much inside my own head- looking for welcome distractions wherever I can find them.

People who know me know this about me- that when I am truly inspired, I can pour my heart out creatively like nobody's business, but that also, when I'm not inspired, I can turn into a shadow of myself- like death warmed over.

I think once in a while, something magic happens. That moment you've been waiting for finally crosses your path and snaps you out of the emotional coma you've been in for so long.

Have you ever noticed how sometimes a total stranger, from out of nowhere, can suddenly have a strong impact on you? I have. It's as if an outside source is almost needed to give me the jolt I need to kick-start my life again- artistically and otherwise.

Very recently, that jolt- that spark I needed- came from someone who is pretty much the complete opposite of me in some ways- but perhaps is similar to me in other, more personal ways- so much so that I connected with his passion through reading a few of the things he has written and shared on his site.

John Hensley is an actor, a director, a writer, and a racer, although from what I understand, his passions for being each of those things would most likely be offered by him in the reverse order of how I just mentioned them. I, on the other hand, am about as far from living life on the edge as a person can possibly be. Yesterday I walked up the steps to my apartment without holding onto the railing. That is about as daredevil as I get these days. I'm a scaredy-cat by nature. I triple-check my doors to make sure they're locked. I'm the only person I know who used to actually drive under the speed limit. I have had some crazy awesome experiences in the past though. I don't know. Maybe what is inspiring to me about John is that he is choosing to write about- to chronicle his adventures in life and share his thoughts and experiences with others. Even beyond that, he is encouraging his readers to do the same.

Some definitions for the word "passion" include... intense, driving, or overmastering feeling or conviction...  ardent affection : love ... a strong liking or desire for or devotion to some activity, object, or concept... an object of desire or deep interest.

Of course, there are a few other definitions of the word which I shall choose not to share for the purposes of the meaning of this text RECord. But my point is, when I see these traits of passion in someone- even for something like racing- which is so far from anything in my own world, it totally turns me on in the best possible, creative, way. 

So, what am I trying to say? Well, I want to say "thank you" to John Hensley for being such a cool, interesting, intriguing, talented, kind, and thoughtful guy. And I also want to say to anyone who is needing someone or something to inspire them in some way: Look for it- and know it when you see it. Then use it. Then write about it. Then share it so that someone else can, in turn, be inspired... and someone else... and someone else... Infinity.

John Hensley's site is called "Chronicles of a Club Racer" and it can be found here:

http://ccracer.com/

I (Gwen) can be found here:

Email:

hitrecordgweninterrupted@gmail.com

Facebook:

http://facebook.com/gwendolyngillett

Twitter:

http://twitter.com/gweninterrupted

YouTube:

http://www.YouTube.com/hitRECordGwen

Cheers.

<3

i feel like i have become lost in this world. So lost that i am now becoming lost even inside myself. Everything feels dream-like. Everything feels unreal. i don't feel numb. That's a good thing. Feeling numb equals not feeling anything at all. This is different from that. i AM feeling. i just don't understand how to interpret what this is. It's as if everything i've ever felt before has mixed and made a new color that never existed previously to this one. My emotions are unidentifiable. i feel wreckless. i feel devious. i feel divided. i feel like everything i have ever thought that i believed in is now in question form instead of statement. A cat meows at me and i feel like it's speaking English. i drink wine and the warmth from it feels like comfortable death. i think about death often. What i hate most is that i won't remember being human. Being human is really something, isn't it? Pain and love. Those i will remember most. i long to feel safe inside my own head. Free to think and let my mind wander without fearing it will never return. What is a mind? A brain? A heart? Is mine broken? Am i dead inside? No, because i feel. The world spins and i spin against it. The forces collide and send me inside this place. This place is my mind and i am lost inside it. Lost inside myself. Lost inside this hell.