Sunday, July 11, 2010
michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 64)
this is the first time in a couple of days i'm getting to actually speak with you in this way. my body rhythms are not exactly matching up with the schedule i've been following; and any attempts to get some time to speak with you are dominated by me drifting off... today was the first day i got to ride my bicycle (other than going to work) in a little bit. the funny thing is, i was going to an event at a cafe in which there was a lecture on your 'genius': how being 'weird' is said to be synonymous with genius. as you know i don't believe in the concept of the genius; i don't adhere to those hierarchies in determining who's smarter, or who's more talented.
nevertheless, the lecture apparently happened a year ago, and was not to be on this day. a friend of mine told me about the event yesterday (saying it was today), and so i decided to go over there, preparing myself mentally for the focus on 'weirdness'. truthfully i don't have high expectations when it comes to people speaking about you, because people either defend you wholeheartedly (with no ounce of critique) or people discuss your artistic 'genius', but have to add your 'strangeness' in relation to a downfall. rarely do i ever see a grey area.
again, it's all a matter of self-reflection. and i don't feel like i've been doing that as much as i'd like to. life's a dilemma of sorts: on one end it's a place where i could relatively be myself. i don't have to fake a smile, or say i am okay when i am obviously not. on the other end i'm not a proponent of 'small talk', and so it's a bit difficult for me to move around in a world where, if i don't have 'small talk' people think i am mean. i do try to stop myself and imagine being in the other person's position... i try to imagine how awkward it must be for some people to even initiate a conversation. before they even state their point they preface what they are going to say with an apology. "never assume you've done something wrong going into a conversation", i find myself saying so often lately. every so often i also try to recall if i apologized constantly. i know for sure that there have been points in my life where i assumed i was in someone's way. so not only am i saying what i say to others, but also to myself.
it's all in "the experience" and how we can fit into a space larger than our own, and yet still maintain autonomy. this can be tricky if we are stimulated by sources which do not encourage self-reflection. however, you being a perfect example; if one is determined, experience can be utilized in informing the world about returning to the core-the heart-the self. reflection.
the other day i saw that your experience, michael, could be bottled up and sold... through one video game. i'm sure you could figure out what the title of the game is.
yes, you guessed correctly.
i know... i know... you adored the whole concept of fantasy and 'escapism' in your own life; and i can't help but think that this was the goal of the designers at ubisoft as well. because to use such an absolute word like 'experience' would ensure loneliness, tears, suffocation, the desire for companionship, the contracts, success and failure at sponsorships... to make the singing and dancing the full 'experience' is unfair because it cheats you of some of the links which actually make you human.
but i get why they did it.
i don't support the fact that this game exists; i don't support most of these posthumous projects, but this is one of the ones done with no input from you whatsoever. the practical person in me acknowledges the desire to maintain a financial legacy for the children (as well as paying back loans). the issue i have is that the 'estate' has developed this into a lucrative business.
i have this dream, that so many others would respond in kind; that people would speak loudly with their 'liquid assets'... that just you, through publishing, would see the results. that the industry would change, by not making money off your teachings by selling your 'genius'.
because still, through them you remain trapped in a song and dance.
but for me, your teachings will always appear, in a small long-stemmed rose, with a few thorns poking out on the sides; in that tired bicycle ride after work; in the wailing child whose teeth are growing in... these things are all part of the cycle; in a three-week old baby, eyes wide open to determine any new sounds... today the sun was bright, but it was never bright enough where i couldn't see.