Canadian fashion icon, John Fluevog, wraps up a week of blogging about his shoe legacy. Here, he’s flying to New York City for a shoe show. No private plane, but maybe he’ll get a warm towel or some snack mix.
John Fluevog for National Post’s Retail Therapy
Most times I hate flying. The seats hurt my ass. Once in a while I get into another worldly groove. Left all to my own thoughts, gazing out the window, seeing the world from above… I mind cruise.
That’s me today. Looking out over the wing, I no longer see the wing but images of the people below going about their day. I see guys fixing farm machinery. I see kids playing or walking to school, moms in their cars, tense, trying to squeeze one more errand into their day.
Gazing upward I see the universe, endless, our world rotating on its infinitely precise course. My mind can’t comprehend the cold nothing of space. My mind can’t comprehend the cellular structure of one blood cell.
I see a parallel world running at the same time as ours. The rules are different. No gravity, no bottom, no sides, yet organic and natural, eternal. It seems I can get glimpses of it — a curtain sweeps back to revel an Alice in Wonderland place, yet way more awesome. Strange creatures, good, evil, all mixed and moving together in communication and talking, they’re all talking about us. Great power struggles. Just like here on Earth. For a millisecond it seems just as real as our world.
Phew! And to think I never did drugs! Good thing. Who knows what I’d be seeing? In truth, I see shoes and shapes much in the same way. The images come from some other place and pop into my brain. Things make much more sense when I know that it’s not all about me.
I’m only a speck. But a speck that was made with the ability to cruise and be part of a broader universe — other places that I sometimes forget to go to. When I remember, it takes all the pressure off. Could it be that nothing is what it seems? Didn’t Groucho Marx say that?
OK, all I need to do is tune in, turn on and Vog out.
Read more: Fluevog for Retail Therapy