December 31, 2021 ~ For David
I knew on January 1, 2021, my last letter would be written to you. I’ve been waiting all this time. Sadly, a friend told me about your work when you passed away. I remember reading an interview you did and you wrote about your cloud or bubble machine. I also watched your TateShorts video, which was far too short, in my opinion. You said something that’s just going to stay with me for a long (long) time, you talked about never really feeling alone when the clouds are ever present. While you may not have said those words verbatim, I remember them because there are things in my life I feel the same way about. Clouds are definitely something I relish looking at and finding images for stories or imagining people on planes. I also feel that way about ocean or large bodies of water. I feel the expanse of the universe. I feel this way about stars too. I love star gazing, but I haven’t done that with another person in quite some time.
Admittedly, I feel guilty only finding out about your work when you passed last year. Yet I’m grateful to have the opportunity to get to know it over this past year. I had big plans and even wanted to write something poetic and revelatory. Well, nothing went as planned and I’m sitting here listening to fireworks outside on a very dark and cold night. I’m happy, just to be clear. I’m grateful. Content. I’m also anxious and nervous about the upcoming year and trying to come up with creative prompts for 2022 that are a respite from working on my dissertation and work. I was telling a friend about feeling that I ended up doing this degree only to find out I want to make art for the rest of my life. Well, that’s one way to do it.
In any case, I just took my edible and ready to close out the year and drift off to sleep. I’ve been asking people all week, what are you leaving behind and what are you bringing into the new year. I haven’t answered those questions myself. Maybe I should close out this missive by saying that I want to leave overworking, self-doubt, shyness around my creative work and practice, and being overly analytical. For 2022, I want to bring even deeper listening, looking at things longer than I usually would (and I already look at things intensely and for longer than 2 minutes), and consistent ritual. I also want to invite love into my life (in all its permutations, not just romantic). I’d like to believe I’ve cultivated a foundation to be able to both give and receive. I’ve grown so accustomed to giving love away and in the past, I’ve given it to people I wish I didn’t. No more of that thinking. I also want to thank you for making your work, for you the things you learned and manifested out into the world. For reminding me that there are so many ways to look at clouds and bubbles. And that life is filled with irresistible moments, sublime experiences, and serendipitous connections. Or, as you might like to remind us, cosmic propulsions are always signals from the universe and they show up in extraordinary ways, if we take the time to listen and feel. All my love to you, David. ♥️
On the digital thread of the time-space continuum, here is a post from December 31, 2011.
