A person with artistic or literary interests who disregards conventional standards of behavior.
Bohemianism is the practice of an unconventional lifestyle, often in the company of like-minded people and with few permanent ties. It involves musical, artistic, literary or spiritual pursuits. In this context, Bohemians may or may not be wanderers, adventurers, or vagabonds.
Living la bohème, what does this mean?
For me this means whatever the fuck you want it to mean. It is so self created, so unkempt that it couldn’t possibly be standardly defined. A person who disregards conventional standards of behavior. A collective standard in preference of ones own standard. Indulging in the juiciness of life. Being a witness of existence within the self & without. Holding hands with the full spectrum of life.
This screams the sweet dew of power to my senses. It is that mad person strutting through the street with self pieced ensembles draping from their deliciously fed form. That person the entire room is both looking longingly and contemptuously towards.
“They don’t belong here, yet I so deeply crave to be wherever they are headed or have come from.”
To meet this being’s eye is to peer into an unholy mischief and joie de vivre that moistens the panties, and causes the ladies to shift in their seats. It is the wild energy of the feminine, the unmanifest in form. A palpable presence. Earthly gender plays no role here, no name needed. Perhaps flying star child, or today Edward Starling…
Whichever you prefer, for I am, regardless of the semantics you attempt to attach to me. I am formless, yet I am dancing sensuous form. My home is with the trees, laid under the stars at night. Perhaps at that Grand hotel over looking the river that you never dreamed of indulging. For I am a child of nature, and creation chiseled into being. I am home where I stand, as I stand. There is no other, or thing that can stand in. For I am offspring of the roots and stars. I cannot be alone, but I love to sink into your company. My soul pulses with the seasons, and my voice weaves words that song into the wind. I am ageless, and timeless. I am survivalist yet thrive through the abundant gifts of the earth. Keep your society, and cling to your finery. I will pick it up when it swims to the shops behind the high street.
It is that part within us that is undefinable, unexplainable. There is no rational welcome needed.
To dampen the spirit?
To hold still the dance?
It is a way of flowing with existence, of dancing with the unseen. To the trained, and refined eye it is a chaotic disorderly living. The cretin, the threat to the gentleman’s society. Yet ever the welcome artifact at the shiny rendezvous. The players card, and accessory of the intellectual.
La bohème within me is my inner child, the part of me that is everlastingly connected to the wonder of Creator. The one who sees, plays, and dances through the experience of creation. The archetype of the most authentic space within me, where there is no shame. No dampening of my spirit to contort into another man’s definition of order. It is the free flow of my spirit, of my unique magic. It is where I find home. The place I step toward with heart extended wholly.
The place where the chaos settles, and I remember that I am free. So I step forward in allowing the life of my spirit to unfold before me in this world. To slowly come into form, embodying my La Bohème.
May we all find home. May we all step through the threshold.