Thomas Cole saw this trait in humanity, which led to his five part series of paintings titled "The Course of Empire" where Cole artistically depicted the phase of human civilization with the emergence of an empire leading to gluttony leading to decay (I realize that I have listed only three phases, but I had a tendency to fall asleep in my Art History classes).
Quite parasitic, this depiction of humanity, no?
My daily workplace commute could not be a more fitting representation of this natural human tendency to feed off of its host (earth), as covered adequately in a previous post. On this commute of mine, where gluttony begins to swallow the environment whole, where the first evidence of decay emerges, there sits a store that sells beads (yeah right). To the outside world, this is just a place of business that supplies the abundant societal need for cheap, handmade plastic jewelry held together by thread. Most passersby recognize a store in a row of many paying no mind whatsoever. Bead Store Owner just wants to blend in, be one of the many lookalike storefronts, dealing with the random preteen hoping to make something nice for Mother and/or Best Friend on the cheap...an annoyance for a clerk hoping to file nails or sending text messages to Mother or Best Friend while passing time and collecting a nominal sum of cash for sitting there filing nails or sending text messages to Mom or BFF. It's a good show. This store is likely to sell a few beads here and there, but mostly they deal irreverence with great success. Sometimes blending in is the idea. Notched in a cozy sandwich of strip mall convenience. Second rate Thai food to the left. Run down dry cleaner to the right. Beads for all occasions...store hours 11am to 3pm. LOL.
We all play hide and seek from time to time. There are days we want to stand out in the crowd, take center stage. The desire for individuality strong. We can conquer the world on these occasions and surround ourselves with eager minds, yelling to them to take notice! Render the dragon slayed.
Then there are those opposing days where solitude sounds quite appealing. To disappear completely. Vanish. To live in a world where there is no want for anything, where no earnest pull to contribute to society whatsoever would be an ideal outcome (argue if you may, but if you've ever wanted to go sit on a tropical beach with nobody else around for a day, you know exactly what I speak of). None of us are that important after all. We all pretend to be, we all want to be and we all go out of our way to convince anyone willing to pay attention of our irreplaceable relevancy.
Or perhaps we're merely trying to convince ourselves that we...are...oh...so...very...important. But we know better.
Some children are terrific hide and seekers. Some better at the seeking, some at the hiding. Think back to those endless summer nights in the backyard, you didn't want to be the seeker. You didn't want to be "it." You wanted to disappear, didn't you? And you didn't want to be found...you desired your competitors to be found, and then only reveal yourself when good and ready, on your terms, keeping that perfect hiding place to yourself for future competitions. To not be found, that was the idea.
We all grow up, of course. But the spirit of that child, the one that liked to disappear and not be found still lives within each and every one of us (not unlike a parasite, it eats away at you). This artful skill to disappear can be an effective tool for adults in all sorts of situations. Suppose you have a store that sells beads, but in reality you're selling something else...and you need that store to disguise the actual nature of business taking place behind closed doors. Suppose you need to blend in and disappear into the monotony of the landscape. The seekers have no chance...unless they happen to desire beads...which is highly unlikely.
The need to stand out, the need to blend in...you don't have to be one or the other...it's okay to be both. Yesterday for example, my hand jazzing was worthy of an audience. I could have worked the crowd, dazzled them with a brilliant display, both dramatic and bold. My Jazz Hands were electric...I was a jazz handing rock star...yesterday.
Today I merely want to close the curtains and jazz my hands quietly...to nobody. I would like to very much hide behind these words that I type and then fade away into the evening. Today I don't want to be found. Today I want to find that perfect hiding space. To completely blend in. I want to be a bead store, wedged between Thai food and dry cleaners.
I'd just rather not be a parasite today.
Today's Jazz Hands stuck out like a sore thumb. Day one-hundred and thirty-four complete.
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