You have to be deaf in both eyes not to hear the thunder of sunshine this year. It's like a waterfall of light roaring into every nook and cranny, floating away shadows and freeing color. Have you ever stood under a waterfall? Not next to it but in it? Choose too large a cascade and you will be hammered. Stand behind it and you will feel its vibration, hear its power, taste its coolness, smell the ozone, but you will only see the world through a veil. Stand too far away and you are just a spectator. But if you stand/float/swim just in front of it, close enough to feel its stings as you squint up at the crest and gasp with exhilaration, you will be as much a part of it as you can be. Life is like that. Some people stand too far away, some with obstructed views, and some dare to enter in.

I like to think that I do all three – for reasons that are peculiar to me. I've learned to compartmentalize my life so that I can march to my own drum for at least part of every day. Otherwise the demands placed on me by the world of façades and conformities we all must deal with would leave me cold and sterile. There have been exquisite bridges that allow me to escape in this private fashion, and perhaps the most romantically idealistic journeys are yet to come – seeing as how the most sublime one began only 4 ½ years ago. Dreaming big but living little is not for me.

Do you have epiphanies wherein you realize that your fantasies have not yet been shot through the heart, that they are still breathing in some high tower of your soul? It's like being lost in the woods, and you suddenly come upon a sign with an arrow pointing in the very direction you are headed. That fleeting perspective – the knowledge that you are not lost to your dreams and your destination – is worth everything.

Playing T sax under a picnic shelter last week, I had just such an epiphany. Pacing between walls of rain on all four sides, it suddenly hit me how fantastic my life is, and I set the T sax on its stand, spun my hat onto a picnic table, and just started dancing around to the music. Started singing, too. The old Ricky Nelson rock version of "Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?" Guess it was my Singing in the Rain moment.

Tried to capture more of those moments in my column this month over on StorytellersUnplugged. The setting there is Famous Dave's Bluesfest 2011 – 10 bands in 10 hours that I catch every year in a picturesque fountain plaza. What fascinates me beyond the music are the street characters having their Singing in the Rain moments. Here's the link: http://storytellersunplugged.com/thomassullivan/2011/07/15/thomas-sullivan-finding-worlds/#respond Below there are four videos of dancing at Bluesfest to go with the story in the column. And then there's the $60 worth of Ben & Jerry's ice cream I scarfed down in five hours. That's besides the Famous Dave's ribs. "I can't believe I ate the whole thing…"

Also below are photos that include a couple of random stills early in the day before the crowds came. The other two shots of a sunset and a rose are favorites someone sent me a few years ago.

Whatever you want is as close as your dreams, but never doubt that it is also as real as you choose to make it. Magic is all around you. It's breathes in your ear, flashes iridescent in the night, wafts suddenly to your nostrils on a subtle breeze, and strokes your cheek just before you wake. Find a time and a place each day to live by what you sense to be true. If you've ever had a fantasy come to life, you've been given all the proof you need that you should reach for the stars in everything you do.

Thomas “Sully” Sullivan
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