Exercise in Imagery
Adding background to my foreground
Nevermind all this stuff, take me straight to the
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Many may remember the HBO series “Dream On” for which I have often imagined myself to be the inspiration. Like so many kids growing up in the early sixties, television became a surrogate parent teaching me everything from how to speak with clarity to resolving schoolyard disputes, (thank you Bobby Brady), to how to spread my middle fingers and live long and prosper. Wearing cowboy jammies with the feet in them, I watched on my deluxe 13in. black & white Zenith and listened to those famous words the very first time they were spoken: “One small step for man, one giant leap…” and it still comforts me inside some to remember Walter Cronkite at the end of the evening news. “…And that’s the way it is.” Sure enough, that’s the way it was. If only the same were true today. If only I weren’t approaching forty like the edge of a steep drop-off! It is hardly surprising that I developed an early interest in visual arts. Not that I’ve ever had any real talent. I’m probably too rational and levelheaded. I just don’t have enough of that moody artistic temperament. I mean, I did win an Emmy and was nominated a few more along with some other honors. I don’t know if there is any real significance to the fact that the acronym for the National Academy of Television Arts and Sciences (N.A.T.A.S) is Satan spelled backwards? Nah! I digress. An early interest in still photography oddly paired with a fascination of Saturday afternoon Sci-Fi somehow lead to a career in television. Add to that the dash of Cronkite and you have the makings of a two decade Journalistic path through affiliates of all three major networks, Fox, and even a short stint for PBS. And like old Walter, I had grand visions of “telling it like it is,” Knighting myself a noble Journalist – a “watchdog of corruption and injustice.” Yeah, right. Then, one day, after one too many fluff pieces, I looked up at the Network feed monitors across the newsroom and saw all the networks, CNN, and even Fox-News following the same white Ford Bronco down an L.A. freeway. No way O.J.! I was done. Finished with fluff. Finished with gore. Finished with shoving cameras into the faces of loved ones of the recently deceased and askng; “How do you feel?” Through with prostitution. Sure, I made a good living. But isn’t that what prostitution is? A consideration of how much of your soul you are willing to sell in the exploitation of others desires? I got up, walked out, never went back.I suppose the public’s desires had become a little too kinky for me. Somewhere along the way we became less interested in corruption or the toxic waste beneath our feet or any of those things that had a truly significant impact on our lives and far more interested in road kill. Come what, May? Is it merely coincidental that I began this project in the month of May? Perhaps. But through the years, I have embarked on a number of major and minor fields of study. Theology, Sociology, Biology, Zoology…no, wait, that was Marital relations 101, but that’s another website all its own. Seriously, I’ve had more than a few dabblings in the field of psychology. Not only because it is of interest, but because it so deeply woven into the fabric of life and family structure and holds at its root the mysteries of why my mother felt the need to prematurely end her life. I am still anticipating someone putting a camera in my face and asking; “how do you feel?” Theology taught me the significance of the circle as a spiritual symbol. As we circle round through month after month, year after year, we are met with bumps in the road. Some are small, barely noticeable, but there to affect our psychological suspension nonetheless. Others, not so small, like the death of a loved one, or the death of a long-term marriage, are a bit more unsettling leaving you looking at the road behind and wondering, “what the hell was that?!” if not something more profane. Since my mother’s birthday is (was) in May, and of course, mother’s day, and my wedding anniversary, and the anniversary of my divorce, among other things, May is a bumpy ride to say the least. So at times like this I often revert to comforting pursuits like writing or photography. I tried my hand at painting for a while, but found I’m much better at taking pictures than I am at making them. Now I have never been what you might call techno-phobic. I’m actually more of a techno-geek. It’s okay, I’ve come to terms with being a geek. We all are to some degree in some one’s eyes and I have learned to revel in my geek-dom.
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