A Real Boy

It Finally Happened!

Well folks, we're here. The fateful day occurred and I am officially a (self) published author! 

I gotta say, this isn't something I've dreamt of, but it was in the back of my mind along the way over the years. I've written for shits and giggles, but never with any reason to take it seriously. Maybe this is what healing and growth does?

It's interesting when you stop to think about things like art -- creations in general -- how much of it is ourselves. I'm not sure we do it on purpose or if it's the mysterious Shadow doing the work in the background ala Jung. My paintings have always been pretty purposeful in translating whatever fuckery is happening upstairs. My music can reflect that pretty well also. I didn't think Grady Sachs would be taking me down the same road though.

In fact, it hadn't occurred to me at all until I was talking with my therapist after I'd started writing the entire thing and was SO fucking jazzed about it. They'd prompted me to think about how the main character of No One's Time might have been pieces of me. I literally scoffed at the idea and shrugged it off. But, as per usual, throughout the week that followed, as I was writing the second or third part of the story (yes, they are coming out later this year!) I really started to note that the similarities. 

The fading into the background. The isolation. The sole-sourced self-reliance. The resiliency. The maddness of it all. 

The point here is this, we need outlets. Those can change over the years and can wind up being unexpected joys that we'd never imagined would be part of the whole. I'm reminded of Daniel Sloss' theory of a Jigsaw Puzzle as a sort of map for our lives. The theory is that we have all of these thousands of pieces to put together this immaculate and beautiful picture. However, we have misplaced the puzzle box leaving us with no bearing on the final product. We just put the thing together as the pieces fit and the picture evolves over time. 

I think that's a great analogy for how life progresses. We have thoughts and feelings, pitfalls and lessons. All of these things make up the pieces of the puzzle over time. All if it comes together slowly but surely. In our childhood we have larger, clunkier pieces that don't match the scenery of young adulthood, but somehow they fit together. As young adults we put lots of errant bits together with, seemingly, no rhyme or reason. Yet, just like with the childhood pieces, they somehow all fit together. 

Good and bad habits, accidents and triumphs; marriages and divorces, semi-permanent surgeries and reversals. Good times and bad times all glomming together, against all odds, into some beautiful representation of self. 

I'm not sure what all of this means. It's very early and One has been sick so I'm running on empty. What I do know is all of that is part of the bigger picture somewhere along the line. 

It may not make any sense. But, somehow, the pieces will always fit.