Monday, June 21, 2010
Headed Where the Sun Don't Shine - Solstice part II
The next incident involving my word of the year, clarity was regarding a nagging sense that there was a REASON that I am generally enigmatic with people. The truth is that for years it served me well. I needed people to keep their distance and nothing short of leaving off personal hygiene works quite as well as leaving out a ton of information and being a person of mystery. I took some rough tumbles in my youth and I was quite unprotected in the world. After a few scrapes in adolescence, I developed this as a way to be with people and not be with them, too. It worked enough to keep me alive, moving and able to avoid incarceration.
The tipping point in my stratagem came when I hit becoming chronically ill, consequently losing my established persona and simultaneously finding the internet. In learning to communicate on the internet in chat rooms I discovered that by screwing up a little courage, I could clearly be a bit more myself. This felt just as harrowing as any personal exchange at the time because I was invested in the friends that I made on line. I was fortunate in that the chat room that I found was full of friendly and gentle individuals with a common interest in music. I let my hair down a bit and began getting to know and liking this externalized version of myself. There was a corresponding change in my daily social skills with less censorship in expressing myself as my confidence grew over the last decade. The internet interest evolved into blogging which really tripped my game because I don't know how to fake or hold back anything it in writing. I just don't. Writing has been my personal sanctum through my entire gambit.
I've been keeping personal journals since the seventies and all I know about writing is putting down what I'm thinking about - whether it is of interest to anyone else or not. I'm extremely self obsessed and old enough now not to care if anyone gives a shit about it or not, frankly. I write in my blog and I'm as happy and as proud of myself as if I personally penned the Baghadavita. It's nice when people respond, of course, but I don't write intending to be popular. I don't write to make a point (well, sometimes I try...) Mostly I write to write and I DO want to feel a clarity flowing through my writing. I imagine someone reading it but I'm not invested in anyone doing so. I don't have any idea really why I bother to be clear, however. I mean, look at how I draw!
I'm perfectly happy with the abstraction of my pen and ink drawings. Each one of those lines resonates and means something different to me on any given day that I look at it. Still, there is no "clarity" about it except in the execution of the lines black on white and what I might title it. This one is Crustacean, 2000. It's about a walk on the beach at the turn of the century. An end of a 2 millennium trek where there are beings in exoskeletons who have been feeding off the dead. Well, it is clear to me.
In closing, it is Summer Solstice. All I understand at this point about clarity is how a lack of it has served me well and the development of it over the last decade has revealed a person I like but I'm not too familiar with. It also seem that I have turned into a person other people find a bit suspect, if I'm reading reactions correctly. So it goes that I have possibly nurtured and cultivated a lifestyle that includes people who cannot possibly understand or care what I'm talking about. I need to either take the time to learn their language or choose to actively cultivate my own. Actually, I don't know what to do. It remains to be seen what the waning light will reveal. If I can remain standing, I'll watch the shadow grow and when the time is right, I'll write the time.