Wednesday, April 26, 2017
Life With Art
All of our issues in this house are intensifying (see the play, first go-through at Suzanne Haskew Art Center in November.)
For the last couple of years I've chilled. Don't know how to describe this, except the rage fire is banked. We have government now that is dedicated to bringing back tall black hats and those stupid collars, along with the bows, which were never good fashion. Isn't it interested that we grew up in this country being told that those doofs in wigs came here to bring religious freedom? And the massacre of the indigenous population that was already here was, well, necessary. And here we are. 200 years later. The same fucking lie.
I digress. We are in a timewarp. 238 years later we're at 438 years ago.
And then there's art. And photography. And nature. Children, joy, the days my brother still is in the world. The days my father, even a little, understands that there are other people in his world.
My appreciation. Gratitude changes the body, ameliorates pain, restructures atoms.
More profoundly, appreciating brings more of the same.