A Version of Change

A metaphor, a trial, and stuff on my mind

Drawn from Broadway & Laguna Streets, San Francisco, Pen and ink, 38x48 inches. Click on the image to purchase a print

I don’t believe any of us can really change, but I do think we can become different versions of ourselves. Like remixing a song. You’ve only got the original recording to work with, but you do have the ability to adjust the levels of each track. Which is to say we have still choices, but within a limited set of conditions. But here’s the thing: As long as we’re alive, new tracks are being recorded—some within our power, others not. Changing the mix to the point where one version of the song becomes unrecognizable from another. A version of change.

Many of you know, two and a half years ago I was almost killed. I was driving through Mclaren Park in San Francisco when a reckless driver hit me head on in my lane. The driver, injured, slipped into the darkness of the wooded park and evaded capture for over a year.

I don’t talk about this much. Something else I don’t talk about is that I am in constant pain. I still walk with a cane, and there are times when crossing the room is all I can focus on.

I don’t talk about these things because I don’t want them to be the soundtrack to my life. Only, in a way, they are. Physically there are things I can no longer do, may never be able to do again. Emotionally, psychologically, I am a different version of myself because of what happened to me. Of course I am. It would be weird if I weren’t. If one experiences any sort of intense trauma and is unaltered, then I would say they are either in denial, or were already deeply troubled in ways I am unqualified to address. The point is, a new track has been recorded onto my song, and I must adapt to the tune.

I share all of this because there’s a trial coming up. The criminal prosecution of the person accused of hitting me. Yet another new track being recorded into my mix. One that is ongoing, and that I will offer more details about later.

As for what I do with all this newly-added instrumentation, I want to say the remix is up to me. And believe me, I’m trying. Except the damn fader only goes down so far. The new recordings have bled onto other tracks, and there’s a shit-ton of reverb. My versions of change are still within a limited set of conditions.

The ultimate mix of course is still to be determined, and I suppose always is. Which is to say this is how life is for all of us, all the time. We’re all just doing what we can with our original tracks and the new ones being layered in. The versions are always changing, like going to a concert and hearing your favorite song played live. You can sing along, but it’s a unique performance, and in that moment of deep familiarity, you can still hear something new. Which might be the best version of this metaphor yet.

So on that note I’ll leave this here. Mostly I’m writing because it’s been a while and I wanted to say hello and show you this new drawing I made. The original has sold, but prints are available. Get yourself one. Some new art for the evolving soundtrack of your life.

Thanks for listening to what’s on my mind

Paul