Notes from Monday (12-23-13) I went back and explored what I wrote on the train to Indiana and organized the thoughts into a more linear fashion.
Monday is a normally a studio day, but today the art is taking on a different form. It is that time of year to travel down to Indiana for the holidays. Traveling back to where I grew up has always been interesting, because it allows me the opportunity to reevaluate where I have come from and to contemplate new pathways leading into the future. It reminds me that we are the collectives of all that we have done, all that we have spoken and all that has been done and told to us. All this information helps to determine who we become in our world.
As the train passes though the towns between Chicago and South Bend I am reminded of all the stories that each town shared with me in my youth. The visits now past, elicit memories that bring up different thoughts and feelings. I am a mix-mashed version of all these memories and although some of the people who played vital parts in my history may not even remember me anymore. They are still an active part of my past as I hold a tiny bit of them in my memory and some are even are stored in my heart.
When looking back over the years I sometimes question what parts of these are real and what parts my mind has filled in the voids as the years have rolled by. Exploring them helps me to determine which of these deserve a space in my life or if they should be banished from my memory. I ask myself if these still serve me well, do they remind me of where I have come from and support my current thought process or do they place limits on my future as they reinforce a boundary constricting my potential for growth. There is often a very large grey area between the check boxes of Yes and No. There are no easy answers.
The train barrels down the tracks swooshing past the landscape. I notice the trees without their leaves. It is a gentle reminder that not everything in life is visible on the horizon that the more vital parts are often hidden from sight, the roots under the ground, the water source and all that lives in the shadows of the light of day. This is a different element of the world that is always present but we are not always privy to it.
The structures of groups of barren trees, young and growing upright as a forest of new growth surrounded by vast emptiness… blue skies with the darkened clouds of winter. I ponder why certain tree refuse to drop their leaves …maybe it is the same as why some people refuse to reach out beyond their own personal beliefs.
I wonder if the leaves fall from these stubborn trees or if they are just replace by new growth of the same, year after year.