…often gets misinterpreted.

Well, not entirely all the time, but when words are put into a power struggle with emotion, we’re often left with only a few remnants of whatever brought us there in the first place. I’m no expert, and please hold the applause, but I do know a thing or two about emotion. In almost 34 years of playing in the dirt, I’ve seen them come and go. I’ve even seen them run in panicky fear, and during those dark days, I’ve been the one coming and going.

For one, I’m an artist.

As an artist, you only need to see things as clearly as the guy next to you. Even better, you only need to be able to simple see. I’m also a chronic psychopath when it comes to choosing the things in my life that allow me the most growth. Friends, if you haven’t guessed, fall deeply into this category. Lovers, and maybe if you’ve been living under a cave for the past 100 years, you may realize that they fall right in line with the need for oxygen. Of course, the ability to be free streamlines all of this into a gift-wrapped box waiting to be opened on Christmas Day.

But what of love you say?

See, love allows us to feel without feeling, taste without tasting; and of course, experience without experiencing. If we talk too much about it, people shutter in disgust. However, if we don’t talk enough about it, people fight to the death to get the important details. So, I choose to be both and experience full flavor and in full detail.

My genes and chromosomes simply wouldn’t have it any other way.

M.C. Davis

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