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When I close my eyes, oh, what a sight.
It’s right there.

The way it looks, feels, tastes, sounds.

The way it moves. The way it listens. The way it makes people feel. The way it just … Knows.

But wrestling it out here into the world of the physical for you to see is like pulling a boulder through a garden hose.

This thing. This experience. This world in my mind.

If I could snap my fingers and materialize it, I would.

But instead, I have to stand with one foot in the physical, the other in the imaginary, and tussle with both.

I have to keep my perfect vision alive while setting it down long enough to balance the material world and all the bullshit it brings.

From designing it
and testing it
to building a team around it
and firing people because of it
to getting funding for it
and losing funding for it
to appeasing family
and jockeying numbers
to disappointing some people
and dazzling others

… and everything in between.

All while keeping the vision pure, unsullied, and alive.

As this journey expands, so does the vision. Sitting here now, I can tell you it’s nothing like it was when I set foot on this excursion.

Isn’t it crazy? That thing I was initially thinking of — it would have never worked.

Maybe this process, this long creative struggle, exists for a reason. The months. The years. The long nights. Seeing the sunrise from my desk — empty coffee pot sizzling on the kitchen counter. Blurry-eyed and bloodshot from staring at the screen.

Maybe it’s not perfect — this vision of mine. Maybe it never will be.

But it’s there. And it’s pure. And I’ll fight for it.

I’ll engage the enemy of doubt and fear. Time and time again.

Because this is what I do.

I reach into the invisible and I pull it out.
Little by little.
Bit by changing bit.

Until it can emerge. Fully formed. Fully material.

So I can sit here, show it to you, and see your eyes light up — aflame from the same soul that lights mine.

And then … I’ll do it again.

I reach into the invisible. And I pull it out.

Jonas Ellison
Heretic. Madcap. Trickster. Rodeo Clown. Writer. | About:

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