“Time it was, oh, what a time it was, it was a time of innocence, a time of confidences. Long ago, it must be—I have a photograph. Preserve your memories; they’re all that’s left you.” (Simon and Garfunkle, “Old Friends,” 1968)
Hail to old friends, who make new experiences more special, who provide continuity between who we once were and who we are now, and who support us both in being and in becoming.
When I look at the photos taken last weekend at my solo art show opening, they’re mostly of my friends looking at my artwork, not so much about me. They who travelled from LA and TX, and those who came from across town: they made the event memorable. I was doing my job; they were being my friends, there by choice.
And my beautiful, dutiful daughters, who impressed everyone with their charm, their self-assuredness, their wholeness, my most glorious creations of all, temporarily put their own adult lives on hold to come out for another act of their mother’s life.
Last weekend was about all of them, not me.