I Once Was Found, But Now Am Lost
I used to surround myself with art and artists, going to dance concerts, the symphony, gallery strolls, exchanging essays, attending open mikes, listening to works in progress, sitting in black box theaters…
…and now I don’t. Not really, anyways. Maybe it was because I was in college then, surrounded by a frenetic, creative spirit and other young passionate artists, musicians, dancers and writers. In college, this is what you do, and these are the things you’re working on–you and your friends and everyone else. So maybe it’s easier to get wrapped up in innovation and aesthetics.
Or maybe I’ve just gotten lazy.
I went to my friend’s art show tonight. She wasn’t even at a point yet to be selling things, but wanted simply to show her work. There were other artists and designers, as well, and young tattooed and/or pregnant people, eating snacks and mingling.
And I was there, but it wasn’t the same as it once was. I didn’t feel a part of the creative whirlwind.
Perhaps there are some things which, once lost, can never be recaptured, moments in life so fragile they can’t be held…
Or maybe I’m just getting old.