GENEALOGIES of BECOMING
My friend Alex is getting old. A slow grey spreads as he slides down the banister of being. Defiant and knowing, he defines his work for the sake of art and, though weary, it feeds him.
He once told me that he does what he does, in the singular way he does it, "as a bird flies and sings". His assurance of self helped me see myself as a bird of my own making, meant to do as I do, meant to become what I am. For like him I live a legacy of self and I, "I am not a metaphor."
