May 26, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011 was purportedly, the end of the world according
to some factions. I spent it in our co-op gardens with other members of
my Landscape Committee. I thought: if these are final moments, I’m
satisfied with where I am and what I’m doing. Admittedly, part of those
actions included uh, mass murdering an entire lawn area of dandelions
with a fancy tool that felt more like an efficient toy. Considering the
occasion, one could say this was overkill. But forget-me-nots, also
proliferating in the courtyard, were transplanted to bald spots around
the building perimeter and flowering shrubs cleared of detritus. In
general, we all engaged in communal acts designed towards impressions of
beauty. It’s striking how doomsday in Canada, fell on a date with many
people away from their homes because of the Victoria Day weekend. Most
of them probably had no idea of the prediction; or if they knew–
dismissed, cared little, or joked about it. I certainly did. Two
committee members were interrupted from a discussion on the logistics of
compost delivery by my solemn announcement of our impending fate. One
lifted her teacup and saluted the sky with a cheerful: “Oh well ” The
other remarked what a nice day for it and decided she’d better get going
on her garden then.
The whole business had me thinking about deadlines. What do artists do with them, especially as we age? There are deadlines for submission entries and exhibition dates when work needs to be finished. There is that length of time a practioner will allow themselves to pursue their craft, before they decide if they want to continue with it or try something else. Some artists notice as they get older, that their health and bodies start to decline at the same time when their work also gets better. Talk about racing a proverbial clock. I spoke about these concerns to a friend, another painter. We are around the same age; have had similar health issues and the attendant expenses. “Don’t think about it,” she says. “Just do it. You’ll find a way.” She’s right of course. Although it’s very likely I’ll still keep thinking about it. If anything, I have faith in the human capacity for resourcefulness. Obviously, near my own expiration, I could easily be too far gone to care about anything for all this to matter. But as long as I’m conscious, there’s always choice.
It is sobering however, to hear assessments that insist our conclusion has already begun– due to the global increase in natural and man-made disasters such as tsunamis, oil spills, earthquakes, carbon emissions and volcanoes. Despite the miscalculations of several historical Judgement Days (another is scheduled for Oct.21st,2011), it’s hard to ignore the present ecological fragility of our planet. We have an accelerated human population in contrast to the rapid decline of other species. Many people imagine themselves engaged in very friendly sex should the world terminate. Not burning or screaming or deluged. I use to sneer at this because it was usually a male scenario. As an artist though, I understand the potential courage waiting below that attitude. At the end of days, people all over the world see themselves making love their final act. Most artists, by the very nature of their profession, commit equally life-affirming gestures, every time they work in good faith, whether or not their efforts yield success. I’m very pleased we are all still here. There was never any doubt. If our demise was imminent on May 21st, I’m glad I was an artist. What a way to go.
The whole business had me thinking about deadlines. What do artists do with them, especially as we age? There are deadlines for submission entries and exhibition dates when work needs to be finished. There is that length of time a practioner will allow themselves to pursue their craft, before they decide if they want to continue with it or try something else. Some artists notice as they get older, that their health and bodies start to decline at the same time when their work also gets better. Talk about racing a proverbial clock. I spoke about these concerns to a friend, another painter. We are around the same age; have had similar health issues and the attendant expenses. “Don’t think about it,” she says. “Just do it. You’ll find a way.” She’s right of course. Although it’s very likely I’ll still keep thinking about it. If anything, I have faith in the human capacity for resourcefulness. Obviously, near my own expiration, I could easily be too far gone to care about anything for all this to matter. But as long as I’m conscious, there’s always choice.
It is sobering however, to hear assessments that insist our conclusion has already begun– due to the global increase in natural and man-made disasters such as tsunamis, oil spills, earthquakes, carbon emissions and volcanoes. Despite the miscalculations of several historical Judgement Days (another is scheduled for Oct.21st,2011), it’s hard to ignore the present ecological fragility of our planet. We have an accelerated human population in contrast to the rapid decline of other species. Many people imagine themselves engaged in very friendly sex should the world terminate. Not burning or screaming or deluged. I use to sneer at this because it was usually a male scenario. As an artist though, I understand the potential courage waiting below that attitude. At the end of days, people all over the world see themselves making love their final act. Most artists, by the very nature of their profession, commit equally life-affirming gestures, every time they work in good faith, whether or not their efforts yield success. I’m very pleased we are all still here. There was never any doubt. If our demise was imminent on May 21st, I’m glad I was an artist. What a way to go.
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