It’s often said that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. A more accurate translation is that the journey of a thousand miles begins beneath one's feet. Perhaps it helps to know that the longest and most difficult ventures have a starting point and my starting point for this particular venture was roughly four weeks ago. Sometimes you hear it said that the first step is the hardest. Maybe. Personally, I think we all secretly know that the first step is quite easy. Easy to say that this is what I intend to do and what I’m planning to do. It will all work the way I see it in my mind knowing that by the time it becomes obvious that the deadline has passed without anything actually happening, everyone will have forgotten all my pronouncements and will have moved onto the next great happening.
Hence the blog. If I write regular updates methodically detailing the ideas, the flights of fancy, the dark moments of doubt, the high moments of excitement and success then there is just the slightest chance that I will pull this off. Perhaps then, it’s a blog not so much for an audience but for the writer. A gun to the head to slog it out until there is finally an end to it all.
Vanitas vanitatum, omnia vanitas
I have never tried to seriously mount a solo exhibition, the challenge seemed beyond my ability. Perhaps it is futile vanity. Why now? Many things happened to make me think that the time was right. I have a story to tell. I have a cause that I want to support. I think I have the artistic knowledge and skills to produce work that will give me joy and satisfaction, perhaps even to others. Sometimes you just have to jump off the fence.
Are we remembered more for the things we did or the things we left undone? Is it indeed vanity that says that we have something of worth to share.
When a person fails to live up to their own expectations does it cause them to leap into action or to fall further into the abyss of indecisiveness and procrastination? Time will tell.
Reality dawns with a new day. Dreams like wisps of an alternative reality, almost caught before dissipating in the face of daylight's logic. Where to begin and which little step will lead to the step that makes it happen. If I don't make even one step I'll never know.
Today I’m tired so I'll just thrust one foot forward, tentatively feeling for a grip on the road with which to drag myself a little further. The shoe is worn, white clay cracked along the edges and fraying laces struggling to contain the foot's effort. So much walking but not even one step achieved.
I paint a picture in my mind of how my exhibition will be:
I see the silk shimmer as I pass it by.
I feel the vibrating rhythm tremble beneath my hand.
I hear the whispers follow me.
I smell the distant scent of dust, of musky animals, of dew on herbs.
I drift to a place in my mind where anything is possible, where dreams come true and I never want to wake.
The beat of a heart pounds 28 to the minute. Then hesitates .......
Arrhythmia …………….