By Joel Pelegrina NEW MAGIC

Be The Strange You Want To See In The World

By Joel Pelegrina 

I write for the sheer rush of it, to feel the winds of creative fulfilment swirl around me as I barrel down the twists and turns of my imagination at high speed. Inscribed in each sentence is a semblance of signature, an aftermarket autograph in the placement of each word array and customised metaphor.

The thrill of it all is in the ride itself, the music of the senses blaring, the proverbial top down on the carriage of my thought processes. I dream in high-beams and rearview mirrors, always looking to usher in an illuminated future while embracing a darkened past.

Do I swerve on occasion, crossing the solid center line of my capacity for self-indulgence, drifting onto the shoulder of my oblique whimsicality? Of course I do. But I always seem to make it back into my own lane before losing control and fishtailing into the ether.

Thankfully, I never go for a spin without wearing my seat belt…

While cruising, of course, every sentence is a moment hence, a moment passed. Savour each word accordingly, the connections between them, the disparity entrenched in their physicality.

It is a great paradox that the ones that mean the most are ultimately devoid of meaning, mere symbols arbitrarily entrusted with encoding the expressiveness of our signature souls. I grow fonder of them each second, regardless, simultaneously looking forward to my next combination abstraction while reflecting back on former iterations concrete.

To this end, I am an adjective ajar, a silhouette of secondary syntax, poised at the ready, always on the verge of enhancing the action within. With pen on blank paper, or blinking cursor on screen, I lay out the itinerary of my evolution, a wayward traveler logging the hours on innumerable flights of fancy.

The words are a portal, the verbiage a secret passageway to the realm of thoughts transcendent. As a proper noun who relishes impropriety, I am a talking contradiction, and I make no apologies for my inconsistencies.

It doesn’t take a visionary to see that there is much more beauty in the imperfection of our intuitive endeavours than could ever arise from the pristine pursuit of our societal obligations. There is no magical mani-cure for any condition that keeps our hands tied and our hopes bound by the constraints of our self-doubt.

Be the strange you wish to see in the world.

For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends The Art of Work: A Proven Path to Discovering What You Were Meant to Do.




Joel Pelegrina

Once enamored with the itinerant life of the wayfarer, Joel Pelegrina now finds himself most at home when wiling away the hours whittling driftwood words into wondrous shapes both exotic and known. Each handcrafted piece is lovingly made, carved with an array of ancient implements equal parts archaic and modern, with methods both traditional and avant-garde. Needless to say, it is not for the flea market or occasional arts & crafts fair for which these relics are made, although in such company they would most perfectly reside; no, these artifacts and totems are meant for more personal locales, in the lofty residences of all those of open mind and gypsy soul, perhaps best placed on the mantels of all the inner sanctums in which we find the most solace.

  1. Tanya Markul

    Yayayaya! Exquisite! Thank you, Joel! XOXO

  2. The pleasure is all mine!! Quite the honor to be featured here. Xoxo

  3. You’re the man! Love this!

  4. Jessica White

    Congratulations Joel!! Your words have always been inspiration!

  5. Oh Joel, you hit another one out of the park! You took the vehicle, souped up the engine, detailed the body and revved down the highway. Love it

  6. Awesome Joel! I really enjoyed this!! Your words are like a lyrical lullaby that make you feel all the warm and fuzzies. Bravo!

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