Livin' in Ghoti Paradise (photo by e.g.)

Dearest Selena,

As I was walking the property of my condominium late last week, I heard your voice singing to me like a canary from a coal mine anticipating the freedom of  an approaching sweet release. You see, I have the dubious distinction (whether good or bad) to be the president of my condominium association. As a result, I’m required to keep myself educated as to any issues on the property in need of maintenance and will often walk the perimeter of it to check the fence and other structures which may require any.

While I was walking the south side of the property, as I approached the parking lot of the adjacent property to my condominium, I could hear a familiar melody blaring from the speakers of a car parked just on the other side of the fence. As I listened to the familiar song being sung in Spanish, something was rather funky and out of context in the arrangement. Then as I listened closer, after a moment, I was able to finally identify the very distinctive sound of Tejano married with the 80s pop sensibility of The Pretenders’ top 40 hit “Back on the Chain Gang”. I stood for a moment listening to the song, then chucked to my self as I turned to walk back toward the front of the property, due to the fact that in some strange way it worked. This song, with a haunting melancholy melody sung by your angelic voice cutting through horns and synthesizers—a mix, the sum greater than its parts, created a sublime paradox of celebration and pathos all in the same moment. It clung to me like a disembodied spirit and followed me for days to come.

When I sat down at my desk to continue with the afternoon’s work I was struck with the most interesting observation about the song that I’d just heard. The fact that one could take a song that was performed by a hard rocking 80s new wave band and transform it into a south of the border masterpiece is nothing short of amazing. A shining example that good artistry is timeless whether it’s a song written in one decade and re-worked in another or a classic painting that stands the test of time and scrutiny. I truly sat in my chair in a moment of awe as I considered this.

Flash forward a few days later and on Saturday I had a similar thought.

I headed down to the east wing of the National Gallery of Art with friends in the afternoon to take in the Paul Gauguin show Gauguin: Maker of Myth. Again one of the things I was distinctly struck with was the timeless nature of his paintings and the subject matter of them. While Gauguin was inspired over a hundred and twenty-some years ago to create most of the paintings I soaked in, the ideals he was attempting to portray in his subjects then are just as relevant to someone viewing them today.

Much as a songwriter attempts to paint an image of a thought, feeling, or idea in the imagination of a listener with language and music so did Gauguin attempt to create in the mind of the viewer a deeper understanding of the world he or she witnesses around him or herself. To assist the observer in widening the scope of perceived human existence and grasp a deeper meaning as to what lies beneath the common daily experiences of the individual viewing his art.

After attending the exhibit I decided to check online at the National Gallery of Art website to see if the short biographical film associated with the exhibit might be posted there. Indeed it is in three parts. I took a moment to watch the film to get a better understanding of Gauguin the man, his mythos, and his art. To say I was blown away would be an understatement. The thing that left the most indelible mark upon me was his desire to connect with and channel what he called his inner savage.

Gauguin realized early in the development of his individual creative process that to be a successful artist, in regard to creative output—not necessarily financial success—would require he find a way to access deep within him self the profound universal primal force of creativity. There are so few who are willing to attempt this, because as is well documented by so many who had ventured before him. This force can be as much a cruel destructive mistress as she is the kind and giving mother of fecundity.

To be an artist such as he is to volunteer to engage in a continual tightrope walk (without a net) between the worlds of Shakti and Shiva which is to live in the eye of a hurricane that is an endless cycle of creation, destruction and recreation. All the while continually engaging oneself in this endless cycle of creation/destruction because to do so is as fundamental to life it self as oxygen is necessary for the survival of any organism living upon mother Earth—in short as much a blessing as a curse.

But then again you know this, right? As you had a crazed fan shoot you with fatal results.

As I sit and consider the amazing creative output that was a result of both Gauguin’s life and yours, and the fact he died relatively young at the age of 54 and you tragically at the age of 23, I can’t help but wonder why is it I can’t get my shit together as a supposéd artist? Why can’t I give in to the muse(s), tap into their primal source energy and follow the lead to bliss? Let go, trust the process, and find fulfillment and joy in it regardless of outcome or hoped financial success. Make the satisfaction of the activity the reward instead of some other perceived qualifier? Arrrgh!

Why is it so difficult? That mi amiga is another letter for another day, so until then I will bid you farewell and pray this finds you well and singing on a cloud with fellow chanteuse or three.

Sending you much love!