Did I ever tell you my story about Bjork?

I've been thinking quite a bit lately about this blog and my plans to revamp it around the idea of creativity-spirituality-art. A few things keep on replaying in my mind: the act of creating, inspiration and freedom. What do these mean? What do I want to say about them? And during this process, different artists names have come to mind: Bill Viola, Twist (yes, I'm putting them in the same sentence) and then today Bjork creeped into my thoughts.

Now you can love or hate her music. It's one or the other. One thing you can't deny is the woman is inspired. She's moved to create. She's given herself the freedom to do it her way. I don't like all her music. But the fact that she exists and IS and DOES I find Inspiring.

Now to my Bjork story. The year is 1988 or so...and I'm in highschool. It's a school night but I really want to go to One Step Beyond and hang out. If memory serves me correct it was a Wednesday and Tara was down to go. We show up and the place is dead. There couldn't be more than 20 people there to watch some band called the Sugarcubes who are scheduled to play. Tara and I sat down and ordered a drink (non alcohol of course) and as we are sitting there the tinniest little girl walked in through the front door with two men behind her but I barely noticed them. I was completely transfixed by her being. Seeing her was like realizing fairies were real and one had just waltzed in. She was ethereal. Her face was smooth and white as alabaster and her hair a shock of black. She had a deep part; hair was combed over and right in the middle of her head she wore a wide, shiny red hairpin to keep it in place. It was an awkward placement. I couldn't stop staring at it. That pin was like a koan to my brain -"WHAT IS THE SOUND OF ONE HAND CLAPPING?" I'm sure my mind melted a bit. It definitely expanded. I can't remember the top she wore but I do recall her skirt made out of stretchy material with a wire at the bottom seam. It was a perfect replica of the skirt the Jetson's mom wore, only silver. Honestly, my world was never the same after seeing her. All I can remember thinking was "Where the F$#@ did she come from?" and being so in awe of someone who was so honestly themselves.

A short time later, she ended up on stage singing God knows what. I couldn't understand a word she said and the music was so new my brain really could not process it all. Tara and I did not stay long after that but Bjork, who was soon after to became a huge success, forever become a symbol to me of the act of being inspired, free and surrendering to the act of creating.