Wobbly Cornfields

February 8, 2021

‘Relax, each hustling breath has worth’ I said in my latest finished poem. Yeah. I feel odd lately, friends. I feel that I am something I wanted to be for so long, do you? It’s a nice, crisp cold today and I have the furnace set on 68f…to save money, the environment and prove that it is fine – I don’t need more. I have enough, even if I do put four or five layers on and drink my coffee fast (so that it doesn’t freeze in the cup). Haha.

‘…each hustling breath has worth’. Yeah. Every one of them, no matter the condition they are in. The commonplace is where we really live. In… out… we live in the places we don’t see and aren’t aware of. It seems trite to say but I have to remind myself at times. THIS moment is the best of times and the worst of times and THIS moment will change…in a moment. Notice each breath. Count them. Now, I think I sound like Yoko Ono…haha.

Something that lockdown has brought me is to the realization that I always was a writer. I was already there when I first imagined doing it and began to type or scrawl. Being a good writer or a poor writer has no bearing on whether I am a writer or not. Whether being a writer makes me more or less than any other person has no meaning. The goal was not to be well respected or famous, the goal was to be a writer. I used to think that famous and well respected and published by a major house was the goal…it wasn’t. Those things are chimerical and have more to do with shifting fashion than to do with skill or inventive creativity. After all, correct language is only that language used by the majority of upper crusters. That’s how it gets decided. If the king says, “ain’t”, then ‘ain’t’ becomes correct. If I write to rhythm and step on the rules…It is just as much writing as anything Ms. Proulx or Ezra Pound would do. We are more alike than dissimilar.

To address quality in art is to be subjective. What the majority decides has value makes the rule but there are always exceptions, based on whim. Of course, accomplishment in your endeavor counts for something. It’s nice when an artist has control of his or her chosen medium but we can’t rule out those who may not be as well traditionally accomplished. I know one muscian who is not very good on guitar and doesn’t really play more than an occasional chord on piano. This friend has a musician’s soul and I love listening to the songs that are made. The songs are not pop-radio and I think most folks would be put off maybe at the rough edges. I am not, not at all. I could listen for hours, it’s an easy sound for the ear. I also know other musicians who are not trained but play and sing extraordinarily well – to any ear. I can listen to them, too. My English rock and pop star friend and his sister are pure brilliance and in all the technical aspects as well. They haven’t found a way out into the star category yet but that is a thing found more in chance than in skill sometimes.

So, yeah. We are what we want to be, what interests us…whether or not the Mayor and Council name a park after us. There is always someone who can see you as what you feel to be. I know artists who have unique approaches to visual art and have been visual artists their whole lives but never had a gallery show. I know musicians who have done all the right things, learned and become accomplished on their chosen instruments and never found a mass audience. They are still artists and musicians, they are still real.

You are real, I am real and it is real cold out. haha. Yeah, well, see. The problem is equating being an artist as producing something of financial value, something that will pay the heat bill and buy groceries. I think folks tend to dismiss their creative side when faced with the day-to-day real system of living. If it doesn’t pay the bills, it hasn’t value. Um.. no, in fact. That idea comes from a false sense of value. That idea comes from the other idea that the mundane and necessary is the prime goal. I guess, now that I am locked away from the world, that I have changed my opinion. Yeah. We need to eat but what good is eating if all you do is stay alive? We need art more and each of us who don’t do some kind of art have lost a part of being alive that really fulfills.

If you find release, the door to another kingdom by doing paint-by-number…there you are. You are an artist. If you plough an accurate row and that satisfies you, fills your time…you are a farmer/artist. If you don’t plough an accurate row but it satisifies you, engages you, opens the door to the kingdom…then you are that which you wish to be. There is plenty of room for wobbly cornfields.