The Time Has Come, Almost

Here I sit, with the loose ends of so many projects, plans and dreams staring me straight in the eye. And I blink. I look away. I wait. I go for a walk in the desert. I plan a trip. I visualize living in another world.

A half written book screams out to me; the fragmented manuscript occupies a great deal of space in my mind, on two hard drives and in my workspace. Yet, somehow, amidst the recent life challenges which have presented themselves for immediate inspection and resolution, I seem to have lost the emotional fire and drive to continue. The issues which once fueled my writing frenzy for this particular bizarre subject have long passed and I look back at the seemingly once fertile fodder and its’ frighteningly comical players as simply annoying and pitiful. Having successfully moved on, the project seems more like passé catharsis material than anything else. Still its contents are funny, scary and contain dramatic life lessons which might be usefully shared with others. Will it ever be completed? Remains to be seen.

And then there’s the temporarily closed exhibit space which currently has no plans to reopen due to the ailing economy and the sparse opportunities within the current local arts communities in which we reside. Things are tight, competition is stiff, neighbors are cautiously unfriendly and the art market itself is so soft as to be unreliable, to be unfeasible. However, I loved hosting the exhibit spaces which have embodied a significant share of the Griffonage Studios persona and hope to be able to continue that effort at some point in the near future. But now? It is unclear.

It feels as if the time has come to begin making decisions and taking action. Perhaps that motivation arrives with the warm glow of a stimulating autumn onset. Interesting, constructive benchmarks have begun to emerge lately in my personal landscape, much as I have dreamed that they would, over time. All of a sudden, answers which were so fuzzy in months past are beginning to clearly make themselves obvious and evident.

Perhaps resolutions are beginning to present themselves, are becoming available for my consideration.

1 comment:

classicalgeek said...

I've got two half-finished novels myself, and put them aside after 9-11 because I didn't wish my writing to be contaminated by that event. Lately I'm starting to think about them again; they'll tell me when I'm ready to finish.

This is the opportunity to take the marketing of the arts into our own hands. When people are desperately looking for answers, we must be there to educate people.

My post for blog action day will address the world at large about only part of the answer: classical music. I challenge you to do the same. We can't remain isolated from our public any longer; people need us to tell them why the arts are valuable to them. It's our duty as artists to point it out to them in a way they can't miss.