Here we go.
No idea what will happen with this space. All I know is that I need to be learning again. I need to free my words, let them run around, learn from their dances (and mine), and their tumbles and falls and from every time they’ll hit a wall.
It’s been a long two years. It’s time.
A week or so ago I had a precious little exchange with an artist I find incredibly talented. The main point discussed was that in the arts -as in academia, I would add- wondering about whether one is good or not is most likely a waste of time. And that dedication to one’s craft out of passion and self-fulfilment, rather than in search of recognition, is possibly the only road to real freedom.
Maybe this is obvious to everybody else, but I have spent decades trying to be not even good but just good enough. Aspiration and self-improvement are one thing, slavery to approval is another. And so here’s my attempt at letting go (a little at a time?) of my fear of judgement. This is when I try and stop caring about what skilled writers think of my words, what established academics think of my ideas, what anybody thinks of my attempts at expressing myself. Intense or otherwise.
It only makes sense to start where this started, with a bow to Lucas and a celebration of his art.
