B. is Dying - A bit of an artists statement
As we are constantly reassessing our public myths- our founding myths, what we tell ourselves as a society
Our personal myths are bound to be twisted, demented, confusing, contradictory.
Personally I live on the bridge of a couple strong polar opposites. A pre-tech and tech time period. A colonial and post-colonial time period.
And I’ve believed myself a man with little power in a time when men are seen as having too much power. Ditto whiteness.
I’m a man of one daughter and two.
I’m a man suffering in a pandemic, and not suffering at all.
I’ve always felt in the margins but other data tells me otherwise.
Who am I? Where am I? Why do I feel what I feel?
I don’t have easy answers, that’s why I draw.
What do the myths tell of us of a time and a people? That they didn’t know who to follow.That they didn’t where they were, that they didn’t know what was on the other side of that wall.
And if others are to to understand this time, the most important action seems to be to tell the truth. So: in here, somewhere, B.is me, B.is a some of us. B is a protagonist in a confused, narcissistic myth. B. is probably not alone.
This confusion, lack of clarity should be- I hope- a welcome aperture into the time, as the larger myths and narratives are re- shuffled, examined, and rewritten.
This story is among the debris stirred and scattered as other narratives are shuffled around.