Spending the afternoon in the quiet of my London apartment, contemplating the recent events of the past and my move next week to new digs. Today is both Fathers Day and the summer Solstice, yet my daughter is 4000 miles away and the sky is grey.
As we wander through our lives we make decisions, we begin journeys and tasks without thought for their end. Is it impossible to create without destruction? Can we maintain the needs of our life (the bodily, immediate needs of home and hearth) without damaging the needs of our creative souls?
When I began the process that led to the Equinox Working I received a polite suggestion from Peter Carroll that I should “do something more modest” to start with. His fear was that the scale of the undertaking I was beginning was much to large for the community I was approaching. I responded with the reply that it didnt matter if I lost money, just as long as the events occurred, as I felt strongly (and still do) that they needed to occur now, at that time and place.
And while Peter’s fears were not wholly unfounded the events did occur. The Working was a success in the realm of creative enterprise. People came, saw and learned. And that was the important part of the doing of the festival.
With an ever growing hindsight I can see that what happened, happened for a reason. That the blemishes and rough edges were as much a part of the working as all of the fantastic ideas, performances and people involved. It was what it was, nothing more and nothing less.
But in the wake of the events I am left (as so often I am in any undertaking I endeavor to create) with a feeling of emptiness. Having poured myself into this recent creation I have expelled all of my energies, my desires and fears, into the shape of what has occurred. Now, empty of everything I am but a shell, slowly filling again with the reserve of my being, like a bedraggled beach welcoming back the evening moon tide.