I’m Not Supposed to be Here…

But then again…”where” is “here” anyway? I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately, for a variety of reasons. The “how” of living in Charleston, WV is a bit of a story but suffice to say: this was never a part of my plan. I don’t want to be here and I’ve realized that sometimes one’s life has to dissemble before it can then reassemble. The great artists knew this — that in order to completely paint in an Abstract manner, for example, that a foundational understanding of Realism was inherent to the later “deconstruction” of it — so maybe the recreation/reimagining of my own life begins there — I once described “cultivating” my life, much like being a conservator at a museum, I am “cultivating” the exhibit of me and my life: where do I want to be? What do I want to be doing/thinking/feeling/meaning with my own life?

I think that for many of us who are emotionally self aware that this past year has shown not just the inherent fragility of life, but also how quickly that life can change. I used to always feel frightened of both change and uncertainty, always needing to know the answer but — what if there is no answer other than the one that I myself create? I keep thinking of David Bowie and his life - long creative endeavors and never ending beginnings again and again and yet still again — a new persona, a new genre, a new way of “being” and he’s inspiring me yet again (bless you, Mr. Bowie, I very much miss you and hope you are happy on the planet Mars where I am fairly sure you are residing these days — “Is there life on Mars?”).