Last week one of my friends got into a car accident. She and I aren't best friends, mostly because I had a knack of willfully letting myself socialize enough towards the end of college but mostly because of distance. We have shared classes and, in one of my moments of (albeit slight) social bravery I suggested we read work at the same campus events, thereby having each other as emotional support. I discovered her to be intelligent, witty, brave in her work and wise beyond either of our years. We have often talked about collaborating and have not met or talked nearly enough for my liking. Every time we do converse I discover in her those most rare qualities and virtues: someone smart, funny, kind AND the sort of person who does not seem to tire at my weird interests and strange jokes.
I only heard of this accident, of all ways, through the bizarre labyrinth from facebook to local newspaper websites and finally, frantically, back to facebook to glean anymore information and attempt to find a route of communication. Finally, a facebook message worked. Since then, while out driving with my parents for the weekend something struck me, interestingly, as I myself was behind the wheel of a car. It could have been so much worse, and it could happen to any of us. In one message to my friend I acknowledged these circumstances as a wake-up call, the only constructive things that can ever really come of them. We have to carry on, not immediately, but once the pieces are all visible and we can shift them back into making sense, We have to figure out what we need, what's important and what (not to mention who) makes us happy.
I've been struggling for sometime with all of this and really the bigger question of it; how to grow up. For a while now I've been quasi-on-my-own and doing what I'm supposed to, working and soon going to school. But something always seems to be missing and a big part of it is social but also- what do I do? Do I write, sew, sing, make music, do yoga, make zines? These are all things I have tried and would love to be doing all the time but I always seem to lose steam. I've always though I've needed another person to spur me on but that's really no excuse. In fact, last month I finished another zine in a whirlwind but it sits unpublished but fully edited and laid-out on my computer. Microsoft word's sophomoric inability to understand that I am editing to be printed front-to-back as a pamphlet enraged me after several days of attempts, to the point of defeat. It sits there-potential unused- even worse than normal potential unused because it really in almost every sense of a project is finished. Hopefully more on that, in the form of the finished posted zine, to follow soon. I have many times in my life wished for a final answer, a solution to my problems and the impetus to finally pursue what I love. Many times, in the form of an unexpected compliment of opportunity, it has come. And yet here I sit. Time is running out- no not in perhaps the most linear or literal of ways but I am 22 and it seems like 5 seconds ago I was 18- and nothing much has changed. I know what and who I like or love. I know my shortcomings and my strengths and frankly, I'm tired of just discussing them with myself. It's time for me to, in the best sense of the word, get a life. My own things, thoughts, and hobbies. My own responsibilities and joys. We'll see exactly how that works out. Like most of my proverbial declarations of independence I am characteristically sceptical.
Speaking of leaps into the unknown (in this case international border crossing and solo-travel) I recently took a freaking fantastic trip to Montreal to visit a friend and hopefully will chronicle it, I believe in contemporary art documentation style soon.
In closing, cherish what you love and don't forget to love what you have.
