a color story: the visualizer nap

The hotel room. Blue lights. Remote-controlled blinds down. Lights off. Feet aching. 9 pm. A break from the New York streets and a nap proceeded. The rain stopped me from heading out in the night. I hated the idea of calling an early night.

I turned the TV on. Maybe I should watch something. Maybe I should try to burn some time. What a waste. But, I should rest — maybe an event might pop out or an after-party…

I tried out my brother’s eye sleep covering mask thingy. It held too tight. 5 minutes in and the drilling construction sound echoed with reverb. Hitting different points of the surface, there was a change of notes and a slow melody riffed within it. hahaha. Could this be the infamous Industrial Ambient music of New York?

I gotta cool down. I gotta cool down. It was only 9 pm.

Alright, let's not get too weird. Reflect on the day in your personal mind journal.  I wrote so elegantly with my phone. Oh yeah. I should send the phone stuff back through email. Can't believe I didn't do that yet. That was easily one of my best drafts from the recent coin laundry trip. A chore turned into a bliss writing session. What more could I get out of New York City?

When I closed my eyes, I had an experience that almost felt like a different reality. Instead of my mind conjuring the thoughts, it appeared completely natural. I swore this wasn't a VR headset. This was a different kind of depth. The blue light echoed from the room mixed in with the drilling. Then, an explosion of other colors appeared while the ambient turned into a sample mixtape- music I've never heard. It felt like I was creating the music right on the spot. It felt a rusty gear churning in my brain or possibly a new gear. Could this be a lucid dream? Could I have entered REM sleep this quickly? 

Was my mind trying to conjure my magnum opus? A visualizer with ambient sampling mixtape? Was this a calling? Again. I tried to empty my mind. I thought about nothing and just focused on my breathing. But, my mouth wasn't moving nor was my nose. Did I entered a state of the true void?

The blue echoed the room, which also distracted itself as a shower pod. I closed my eyes. Then, my imagination was doing its own thing. Something materialized on its own. I entered a different channel. Materialization of a magnum opus, perhaps? It contained so much culture. I was creating music I never heard of, in this space. Then, a blue dash almost like the Aurora lights like swooshed in which conflicted with a political ideology vehicle. The things I experienced from MOMA reappeared in this space but all of them blended in. I saw beautiful colors in playful shapes with a hidden mixtape. An ecosystem of ideas and expression fed itself.

This space wasn’t overwhelming but almost revealing. Could there be a formula for this natural trippy experience — city energy, 35,000 steps + active museum experience + rain? Or was there something special about New York City?

Later on, I discovered that the experience was a one-time thing. Even with more steps, more cultural activities, and a bit more coffee, I couldn’t manage to get my head in that surreal space. Now, all I received were aching feet, a lack of appreciation for culture, and the tinnitus ringing.

All my sensory experiences felt quite dull compared to that heightened moment. The magical space was maybe an abstract wonderland, a spiritual gate, or a glitch in the brain. Whatever it was, I wished I never knew of its existence. Now, I feared a trip to the psyche ward. Or, was this a known secret held by enlightened folks? I wondered whether the monks could enter that space freely without a gatekeeper. For now, my imagination had a taste of what’s possible in the deep conscious. Until next time.