Meditation on the Possible

(WARNING: Navel-gazing alert. You may wish to skip this entry and move on to something more entertaining....like another blog, for instance.)

I was reminded this evening of a documentary I had watched a few years ago on Henry Darger, a reclusive, eccentric man who worked a menial job, never married, lived in the same small apartment for forty years....and spent his time creating a fantastic alternative universe, in words and paintings, that were only discovered near the end of his life. I won't say more exccept that the documentary, "In The Realms Of The Unreal" (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0390123/), is pretty powerful stuff (in fact, I think I need to watch it again myself).

Around the same time, I saw another documentary, also about an artist, but this time a living artist who is not only recognized but celebrated--Andy Goldsworthy (Rivers and Tides-- http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0307385/).

What blew me away at the time (and still impresses me now) was that both of these men were following their creative impulse against the tide of culture and society--one secretly, one openly. They weren't worried about what anyone thought of them--they simply did what they were compelled to do, which was to create. These films expanded my sense of what was possible in the world--that one didn't have to follow the same straight lines, or even stay within them, to be able to survive--and thrive. The little boxes one would check when asked, "what do you want to be when you grow up?" in school probably didn't include "Oh, I wanna write a fifteen-THOUSAND page epic complete with watercolor and ink illustrations about seven little girls who lead a civil war against their abusers, even though I was an orphan, never went to art school, had no formal training, had no family and no support for my work" or "I think I'll go out in the woods somewhere and build works of art out of whatever I find there--ice, clay, straw, branches, leaves..."

(I mean, I remember being JEALOUS of Andy Goldsworthy while watching this, thinking, "You mean, the type of shit I used to do as a kid just screwing around, he gets to do every day? --and gets PAID for it?!? OODLES OF MONEY???!? GAAAHHHHHH!!!")

It's funny that I'm reminded of these films tonight, when I'm circling back around to trying to figure out what it is that I want to do with myself, and more importantly, getting over my fears of actually DOING it.

A better question to ask, I should think, instead of "What do you want to be when you grow up?" (who wants to grow up, after all?) is, "What did you love to do when you were ten or twelve?" ...back when you didn't give a shit about what anybody else thought about what you did, when everything was done in a spirit of play, and creativity was as natural, as fearless, as unintimidating, as breathing?

I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that when I was twelve, I wanted to be one of two things: either a writer for Isaac Asimov's science fiction magazine (a friend had loaned me several back issues and I was hooked) or a Not Ready For Prime Time Player. Still, it's interesting that expressing myself in words and fantasies, and being funny, have been a through-line in my life, even though I'm not currently working for Mr. Asimov OR Mr. Michaels. Neither of these through-lines have generated income....yet.

I'm not sure yet what, exactly, all this means, or where it will lead. That's why the title reads "meditations on-" as opposed to "things I know for sure about-". But I think that it's the meditation--and the exploration--that will eventually show me the next step.

RM