Walter Cabal
Writer

I have a medical condition called Dysthymia, the subsequent depression can leave me existentially helpless and blind from day today.

It’s in the silky, beautiful dissonance of ‘never having’ found in Wong Kar Wai’s films where I accepted what falls through the holes in our hands; from the sandpaper textures in Stray From The Path‘s screaming songs that I learned that anger’s fire still emits light when we feel the need to throw tables at injustice, and it’s from the incredibly quiet and alone poems of poet Mary Oliver that I learned that prayer and poetry are made of the same spirit; guided by the same helper. If all scripture is God-breathed, then I believe art has taught me that anything with life-giving breath in it - is a kind of scripture.

When I allow art’s dissonance to rub saliva and dirt in my eyes - somehow I begin to see.