Don't Forget the Margins

Tag: creative process

My Life on a Couch #2

Physical objects. I look. I see. What’s missing? Well, so far, my driver’s license and my passport. I’ve been without identification for over a month. I lost my new wallet around my birthday. Before that, before everything changed, I left my wallet on the roof of my car. Pieces of my life in a 100 foot radius on Speedway Boulevard. The passport, still no idea where it went.

A pile of my pieces, on Mt. Graham.

A pile of my pieces, in the Pinaleno Mountains.

I drive my car hoping to not get pulled over for that broken brake light. The passenger’s side floor of my car is a cemetery of kombucha bottles, off brand seltzer cans, and disposable coffee containers. I can hear the bottles clinking every time I turn a corner. God, it’s so annoying. Every time I think I’ll clear them out, my hands are full or I’ve forgotten. That, or another to-go something or other has added itself to the pile.

The clutter is part of the transition. It just is. That’s why I’ve started to add to the pile. While I’m super tempted to clean it right this second because I cringe (CRINGE) at the thought of continuing to leave it, I think I ought to sit with the pieces of my life. So I am.

What’s here? What needs to not be here anymore? How do I position the objects that I own, that I carry with me so that I can maintain this transition?

How to Start Again, and Again.

There’s the concept of the mind as a well, the imagination as a spring: liquid metaphors for the finite and the soon to be dry. It’s about watershed management, isn’t?

That’s why, one month ago, I bought a handful of brass finished, perfectly round, 1/2 inch in diameter magnets from the boutique next to my work. I took them home and put them on top of my desk. When I look at them, sitting there in the limited variety of shapes they make, I remember that I spent 15 dollars on decorative magnets. This feels like faith and tells me that I must be a believer.

This is when watershed management turns into pantomime.  But then of course, it’s never been about anything tangible. It’s belief.