The Sound of LiteBrite

Interesting, or funny enough, the song “Up Til Dawn” is mainly about the nature of time and the fear we learn to have of its essence as we grow, as we go deeper and further in our conscious effort to defy its implacable and unprejudiced fatality. Some have botox injections, others try to defy impermanence any way they can, but for me, it’s not about getting older, mortality, or where I might be going after death… It’s about the light trails that ultimately define my existence, like a super vintage game called LiteBrite that my cousin was playing endlessly when we were kids.

LiteBrite allows the artist to create a glowing picture by punching multicolored translucent plastic pegs through opaque black paper. Using a standard light bulb, the light is blocked by the black paper except where the pegs conduct the light. When lit, the pegs have an appearance similar to that of LEDs.

The amazing aspect of the game was that if you weren’t punching the right translucent color on the unlit canvas, it would ruin the whole thing once you apply light to it all, and that’s something I was thinking a whole lot before my heart graft. If it’s the end, what will the design of my existence have been? How many wrong color pegs would there be? Would it make sense? Would it be colorful? Would it be singular? Would it be one of those silly boat designs you were pissed to discover when you would light up the plastic pegs? Would it be something meaningful — and when I say meaningful I mean real and honest, without pretend and artificiality.
I wouldn’t obviously see the design being dead; I’m damaged but not that much of a fool. But it really occupied a lot of my thoughts facing the potentiality of not being able to make it through. The reflections that followed the moment I opened my eyes were entirely different, even though my brain told me that I saw all sorts of lights during the substantial period I was unconscious. “What’s next?” I wondered, “What type of design could I now make my previous life evolve in?” Those new thoughts bear quite a dissimilar perspective from my previous ones, they are more engaging, or more consciously aware, somehow, as if I didn’t care about punching the right translucent plastic pegs on the opaque black paper of my ongoing canvas of light. It’s punching some holes without hesitation, without the fear of messing up the perfect-ending potential outcomes. Otherwise, that is not living, it’s having your life dictated by a pre-outlined design, it’s status quo all over again. And if my board was completely covered with unmatched pegs, it would be a life that had been worth living I supposed… or at least that had been lived freely, with a consequential ongoing motion…

I hope you understood the analogy, as it wasn’t that clear for my bandmates when I brought the image of Lite Brite to the writing session today. Even Ben didn’t have a clue what I was talking about, so I must have been a little too deep into the metaphoric dimension of my explanation about the beginning of an album and its meaning.

Me: “It’s easy, guys, the beginning is something we carefully craft until it becomes an ensemble of messed lights. That’s the emotional stream I want us to dwell on… you know what I mean…”
All of them: “nope, I don’t have a single idea of what you are referring to right now.”
Me: “Lite Brite, guys… LITE BRITE!!!”