Ms. Rachelle has struck again:
Your blog was elegant, eloquent, and sad,
a true representation of the artist.
I know, full well, that there are people who have it much, much, much worse than I do. And I know that fact is what many people would use as a basis to tell me that life is hard, I am luck and I should damn well suck it up. They would tell me not to be a whiner, to “just do it,” to get on with it, to shut up and stop whining.
Of course, that was the path of my life, this whole “get over it and move on stuff.” I looked around to see how others did it, and found that people use what the psychs call “latent inhibition,” the sloughing off of what is too much — inputs, thoughts, feelings, facts, memories, sensations, whatever. The assaults of everyday life (and this fast & mechanized society has brought growth by extending the number & intensity of daily assaults we endure) are just gone, never getting through the armor or just being forgotten, left behind.
Some of us, though, well, we have a mind like hot gum on a symmer sidewalk: things just stick to it. And when healers tell us that the new only comes when we let go of the old, we know that seeing patterns, which can only happen by connecting dots, and that means keeping the dots around, know that seeing patterns is the joy in the world. The clutter isn’t clutter, it’s a storehouse for possibilities.
I recently met someone I worked with 20 years ago in 1985. I started off into a story, and then stopped to assure her that this would be relevant to our conversation.
“Ah, with you there is always, always a connnection,” she said with a smile.
How can you make art unless the experience of your life is present and remains present? How do you see clearly what is there, rather than letting it slide away, and how do you see where the patterns are, the points where the universe, or at least the little universe you live in, connects?
I have long been told that in communication one has the obligation to make their own views clear and comprehensible to others. This has been the quest of my last decades, to find language which expresses my worldview as clearly, as elegantly and as eloquently as I possibly can, so people will understand how I see, so people will understand me.
And it turns out that quest leads me to. . . sad.