Time off to do my duty.
This last month has been busy everywhere but in the studio.
A trip back to Maine to see my family -- always a distraction. It's a long and expensive way to go just to see for myself how my 90-year old father is doing. I want to be the dutiful son, but the care that is needed is daily care I can not provide from 3000 miles away. I can give perspective and try to share what I think has changed -- for the better or the worse -- since my last visit. I can provide support and encouragement. I can listen to his concerns and complaints. It is his life to do with what he wants. He's made it this far so who am I to judge.
No artwork gets done when I'm in Maine. There is little from my life growing up that I find inspirational. No demons to exorcize. Few fond memories only gray ones. It is a past I left behind in its proper place.
Upon return I am called for jury duty and unlike in the past I am seated in the juror's box and there I stay for a two week trial. I can't help judging the procedure. The lawyers seem to have forgotten who their audience is. It is bad theatre all around. The judge has a dry wit as she struggles to preserve the official records with lots of rancor between the two sides. The plaintiff's role in the procedure diminished -- her lawyer could have done a better job making her case. The defense could have done a better job poking holes in her case. There is a lot about the law that is meant to confuse and conceal. There was no shining a light on the truth -- but maybe that was the jurors' job. Two and a half days of deliberation of twelve reasonable people trying to reconstruct the truth and make the appropriate judgments. I think we did a very good job. We took our job very seriously. And our verdict probably made neither side particularly happy -- which is what the truth usually does. I wonder why they didn't settle?
And now it is time to catch up on my "real" life and get back into my routine.
There is a lot of unfinished business in the studio to tackle.