As I’m working on art for NWC, I’m rediscovering some of my old photographs. I haven’t had mush inspiration to shoot any pictures since I arrived in the Pepto-Bismol hued land of Florida. On the other hand, it’s hard for me to look at the best ones from my past, as they were mostly taken in Maine.
My being there was a defeat to begin with, and the lovely population of small-minded scumbags and especially relatives delivered some pretty humiliating blows to body and soul while the whole ordeal was going on. But, hey, I got some art out of it, and an unhealthy reticence around other people.
I think in the long run, it was good for me to be without my protective layer of freaks , mages and artists, just so I could stare the enemy in the eye. That and the family ghosts who tear viciously at those who remain at the rotting peninsula my family has been chained to for generations. I had a lot of time alone, couldn’t paint to save my life, but I did wander the shore and take photos of some powerful hidden spots the tourists will never see. They will not see these places even if they stand on top of them.
New sounds whispered through my dreams as I was painfully disentangling from my self. It has taken years and several releases to begin to capture this experience and subsequent awakening. Each one goes deeper, illuminating another facet, tearing flesh and bone to unleash the spirit. HA!
Finally being homeless in Portland allowed me to have perfect freedom for the first time in my life. I will never let it go. Death in life is a hell of lot worse than physical death. Life does not happen in the absence of freedom. Most experience this death, but do not recognize it. They will send out troops to take their thoughts off it. They will numb themselves to not feel it.