Life is the art of drawing
without an eraser.

John Gardner, Unknown context

October 17. Wednesday

I guess there is a reason that this space has been vacant for a while, and in among those reasons is the thought of the day for today and in relation to the quote above it is simply this… Everything that we do in life, in real life that is, has invisible links to our yet unfurnished future. In the opposing manner, everything we have ever done is constantly sending waves of energy back to us, resurrecting ghosts of the past, causing footprints that we have long forgotten to be placed in front of us like plaster casts of some prehistoric beast. We cannot, nor should we want to escape our pasts however that ideal is overcast by the simple human truth that in order to measure who we are, others will always look to who we were as a yardstick. As if it were not enough that situations that surround us constantly drag the past to be relived, but the past itself often reaches out to us begging not to be laid to rest.
The theory I have for this is threefold, either the past is revisiting for the sake of nostalgia, most often the distant past, viewed through suitable tinted lenses or it is here to be resolved and put to rest. The third option is that there are issues that plague you not through your own eyes, but rather through the eyes of those people who share your life at the time. They can be coworkers, lovers, or family members, but at any rate, the portions of your history that don’t sit well will often pass not like ships in the night but rather slide along your side like the silent iceberg bent on your destruction.
This is both sad and frustrating for someone like myself who enjoys the flavour of nostalgia with a broad and wide life experience upon which to reflect. The savage bite of ones past when it comes nipping is a source of massive discomfort and for me, when this happens, I am happy to lay waste to huge sections of my past like a hunter moving through the rainforest wielding my machete with abandon. The recent weeks have brought several waves of my past washing over me, some with happiness, some with an amazing degree of indifference and yet others with that painful twang of secret embarrassment.
How then do I deal with these latest developments? I tell you lot and hope that the catharsis of the tale will place the whole thing in perspective for us all.

At least this time I have a solid foundation upon which I can stand while the often stale historic breeze moves mysteriously around me. And for that I am truly grateful.

This didn’t turn out the way I envisioned, having spent 2 days on the couch with another serious back condition all the thoughts swirling around the martini glass mind and me, hopefully, grasping at the olive that resides within. I thought putting my images on paper would help but I have been stymied by my own lack of practice. Maybe the next few days will change that. Until then, my medication will allow me to return at least for a few hours to work tomorrow and getting out of the house will certainly do a lot to stabilize my frantic mental processes.