YourVisionWords

Vision.

Mine's constantly evolving—always finding its sparkle-eye spirit in adventure, its muscle in mountain.

My vision for long life is inspired by short bursts of Milky Way bright on clear October nights and the sound of humans listening. It wears wonder. My vision plays hard and rarely comes in too soon. It sweats after newly-thought thoughts and lets their novelty grease its lining. It finds momentum in the pure, honest motion of running.

I want the freedom to learn for the rest of my life.

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Recently, I prompted a dear friend to describe his vision. The prompt made its way to other friends—to mentors and dreaming minds.

Below: my humble prompt, and beyond, the beginnings of wonder in words I hope to continually capture.

Send me your vision: MeaganGWhite@gmail.com












*Prompt*


He'd learned a lot there in just two years, under crimson tides and Cambridge skies; Boston's yards had been good teachers. Its labs were informative, too, as was the every day company. And something else had been particularly edifying—something not at all crimson. It was a distant vision of superlative calm. He'd shaped it in still moments when energy was high, and when he had to describe this vision in words, he opted just to smile and say, I could best sum up this vision o' mine by describing a structure I'd build.

"It'd be a pretty sweet structure, too," he'd say, and then he'd proceed to describe it. People nearby couldn't wait to be captivated. The description went something like this:




A Corporate Structure


The description started metaphorically, with the bricks and mortar of biotech.

“We've only just begun to see what is possible in that realm,” he said. He was convinced that biotechnology could resolve a host of global issues—from energy crises to dilemmas in medicine. “I think it will change the world.”





The scholar depicted biotech’s impact in the form of a corporate structure. Part of the structure’s elegance was grounded in the assortment of builders; not only would his own immediate knowledge of science be utilized, but so would the savvy of eccentric thinkers in semi-distant fields. Leaders like Steve Jobs and Howard Hughes would be called upon to contribute.

Ultimately, his biotech construction would house innovative energy and medical solutions for the masses and more who entered its doors...



A Salmon Head in Gelatin


You start with the foundation: a six-inch thick slab of orange jello, with chunks of mandarin orange for structural stability. Any shape you wish. But just before the gelatin's gelafied, stick a thin layer of cotton balls over the top. Stretch out each ball before placing it in the gelatin, so small bits of orange show through the top.


Cuz calm, really, is all about aesthetic.

Last comes the garnish, the flourish: the fish. One, solitary saffron salmon head placed in the very center of the masterpiece.




"I don't do buildings"




I don't build buildings, but rather, construct dreams. Painstakingly, meticulously, in the vision of their creator. There is honor in continuing a dream a la Sagrada Familia, but it is perhaps more noble to think for oneself, reinventing mistakes and reveling in errors as though you were the first to commit them, and the last to learn from them.




A Tree House




This tree house would span dozens of the most majestic trees as they stood sentinel around a crystalline mountain lake, stashed away, inaccessible to those who wouldn't appreciate and float in it, thinking of bouncing bubbles and butterflies (a little Zarathustra for you).

The lower branches of the trees would be bare, supporting only our floating house. The canopy would strategically part, illuminating airborne epiphanies and squirrels as they resonated joy throughout the air. The branches would sway in the slow breeze and torrents of time, making bridges for friends to cross, and coves for family to sleep...

The summers would be green and gold under the foliage, the winters blue and white among the skeletal remains.

During the fall we would starve, as who could remember to eat with such color and awe-inspiring death enveloping us? And during the spring we would cry, overwhelmed at the beauty of budding leaves, and blinking infant-eyes.

The bedrooms would grow at our whims. Instead of a rug I would have thigh high ferns, which would part as I walked around contemplating life. A massive hardwood desk would arise with it's back to the lake, a mossy chair cushioning my ass. A leafy canopy would darken my bed at night, giving only slightly, letting the Milky Way float down as I watched it sleep.

In the morning shafts of light would use laser capture techniques to juggle specks of dust, and as we focused in on the thousand dust particles no doubt could reach us, and any feat would become probable.

This house would stand as an open invitation to those who will it. An open forum for life. No one would stay for long, because those who know how to love such things know that there is unfulfilled life outside this ring of trees, but the lake and its shade would be there, and I would prune its branches as needed. And fertilize it... with my poop.




A Simple Rowboat




The sweetness of the structure lies in its stark simplicity. A simple rowboat of light maple and soft pine, the lines of the wood merge swan-like at the bow. As she rests on the water, she hovers on each crest of the wave, never more than a quarter inch beneath the surface. The oars lie propped and parallel on the seat, big enough only for one.

Smooth and as elegant, almost more so than the boat herself, the oars beckon to be taken and pulled. Despite the wind that so often batters the sea, the vessel an image of complete and total serenity and the oars remain motionless.

To the uninformed, the structure is a well-crafted boat. She is measured flawlessly, varnished perfectly, designed brilliantly. She is indisputably seaworthy. To those who know, she is an oasis and an escape. Sleek, and alive, each stroke of the oars brings the owner of the boat further into the horizon.

The oars push the boat to unimaginable speeds driving away the careless thoughts that clutter the everyday mind. The product of a still moment with high energy, the small boat closes the distance to the vision of superlative calm, a vision of azure and navy with cool borders.




A Structure in Flux


it isn't the kind of structure one man could build, or the type of structure that you could understand by looking at it for a moment in time.

This was a building wrapped in it's own history. From the very first date when the location was chosen those first pioneers could never have imagined what it looks like on this day.

From humble beginings it was a dirt hut. It was a convenient central location for the intersection of two river and a view of the mountains; a natural crossroads. Travelers from many lands would cross paths there to echange ideas.




As feat trod in and out so did hands help to expand the walls and support the roof. Over time the meeting place grew with every new idea brought in. At certain times individuals sheaperded renovating activities and at other times groups placed their stamp.

But each generation left their own improvements. New materials enabled further increases in architectural capability, but the core utility remained the same. It was a house of ideas built to incubate and hatch eggs of thought, and itself a reflection of the ever improving capability if it's inhabitants.

Truly a structure in flux. Though solid - always changing identity. A building not of brick and mortar, but supported by the cumulative thoughts and voices of those who had found shelter there. It was a forum for expression not just inside, but by it's very existence- symbol and example, standing for free expression within and without.

So when you see the high vaulted ceilings, know that the mural pays tribute to the great minds that once looked to that same point in wonder. See the cascading wall of water and reflect in the pool at it's base- though the fountain remains itself, there is never a moment when it is at rest.

Recognize that the green roof is an homage to the original mud hut and a testimony to the cyclical nature of thought; when ancient technology finds its way to the cutting edge. From the solar/geothermal internal temperature control system recognize that this building is connected to the earth, finding it's own equilibrium from natural ebb and flow. This is not just a structure build on the earth, but out of it and into it.

A house of innovation for innovation and built by it. A monument of human achievement but gracious through and through for the gifts of the natural world. A secular house of god, and shrine to aspirations of wisdom.




A bookshelf

It would be a bookshelf full of favorites and all the world's time to read. Beside the bookshelf, a hammock, and below the hammock, the wildest wildflowers reaching up to a slow, gold sunset.

No talking.























to be continued...and many thanks to those who have contributed :)