Many bad things may happen to us as individuals over the course of our lives, but most of them would pale in comparison to losing hope. In my forty-plus years, I can look back at times when it had felt like all of my metaphorical cylinders were firing in harmony. I have had great employment and corresponding pay, meaningful relationships with people I care about, a solid feeling of family and where I come from, and a sense of self-love and worth that permeated my endeavors and interactions. Conversely, there have been times of great, simultaneous disharmony in many aspects of my life when it seemed like even temporary relief from my swirling thoughts and negative feelings could come only in turning off the hurt and certain parts of my brain in the bottom of a pint glass on weekends. Many of us have been in a similar dark place at some point, coping in our own ways. Tomorrow, I will celebrate one year of total sobriety.
Adversity, by itself, doesn’t necessarily have to have the power to unmoor us from a solid foundation. In this final, full week of Black History Month, I think about my African American predecessors who never lost hope in their pursuit and fight for the ideals of racial freedom and equality that I enjoy today. Bad things are going to happen to you in this life, no matter who you are, so making friends with that reality is a good idea. Sometimes, though, it can take a combination of awful, individual happenings – whether personally, to you, or collectively, to a group to which you belong – to make you ask, “Why?” or “Why me?” It is both possible and necessary to go through bad times and persevere instead of giving up, acting out, and/or self-destructing. This can be difficult or next to impossible, though, once you have lost hope.
Looking back at the previous calendar year (which I am being very careful not to invoke), it was palpable from what I read in the news and in my social media feeds that many had experienced a loss of optimism that better times were ahead and could be possible. With a new year solidly underway, and with the lessons I’ve learned so far during the current pandemic, things are looking up. In fact, with all of the new mask-wearing and handwashing protocols established since COVID arrived on the scene, I have recently realized that last year was the very first of my adult life (and perhaps of my entire existence) that I didn’t get sick once. I consider myself a healthy adult, but I will usually catch a cold at least once or twice in a normal twelve-month period. In a broad sense, there is something to be said for a little extra cleanliness and precaution.
I was back in the Washington, D.C. area visiting my older brother and his family when I spotted the featured car-themed exhibit. We Chicagoans do not lack for regular access to world-class art and museums, but I am always hungry to nurture, feed, and challenge my creative side. When the suggestion was made to take a field trip to the National Mall for the afternoon to absorb some culture, my hand shot up in agreement. I had been to a couple of the Smithsonian museums before, but the one that always seems to draw me back repeatedly is the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, which focuses on modern and contemporary art. The building, itself, is a beautiful piece of modernist architecture originally constructed in 1974.
After a fun and peaceful hour or so at the museum (which is about the maximum amount of time that kids can handle at a place like this), I saw something outside the exit doors facing Independence Avenue that prompted me to dart outside ahead of everybody to see it. There was a destroyed 1992 Chrysler Spirit (these models were Dodges in the United States, but Chryslers elsewhere) with a large rock of some sort crushing its cabin. Of course, I realized that this was probably a deliberate work, but I was still confused, as it was outside the museum building and exposed to the elements. (Could this have been an act of terrorism?, I thought for a split second.) With traffic passing behind it on Independence Avenue serving as a contrasting backdrop, this messed up Chrysler sat there looking sad, dejected, and unloved.
Still Life With Spirit and Xitle was a very literal and visual metaphor for a crushed spirit, and such a bleak representation of what happens when something that was never really celebrated to begin with is no longer valued. I liked the related Dodge Spirit, Plymouth Acclaim, and Chrysler LeBaron sedans well enough when they arrived for model year 1989 when I was in high school. They were not beautiful cars by any stretch, but they seemed like attractive-enough, modern upgrades over the K-Cars they replaced. They were still K-derived, though, with boxy, utilitarian styling that seemed vaguely in the idiom of the concurrent Honda Accord, the benchmark for that segment.
The Dodge Spirit R/T arrived for 1991 with its turbocharged, 2.2L four-cylinder engine with 224 horsepower. It was capable of going from 0-60 mph in under seven seconds and was even named Motor Trend’s “Domestic Sport Sedan Of The Year” for both ’91 and ’92, beating out the celebrated Ford Taurus SHO for those honors. Aside from that, though, the AA-platform cars from Chrysler Corporation were just… there. The Spirit sold well enough, with over 460,000 sold (in both Dodge and Chrysler variants built between 1989 and final-year 1994) in all markets. Not earthshaking, but not shabby, at all.
The artist behind this sculpture is American expatriate Jimmie Durham, who was born in Washington, Arkansas in 1940. There is much to be read about him online, and I have included some links to external reading about him and this work at the bottom of this essay. I was able to identify the model year of the donor Spirit only after having read about this piece, and the rock on top of it is a nine-ton red basalt boulder meant to symbolize a volcanic rock from the Mexican volcano Xitle, a name which means “spirit” – another tie-in with the car itself. The smiley face painted on this rock was not an act of graffiti, but intentional.
There may be individuals who may smile, either secretly or in your face, when you fail at something. Such is life. In a way, I think this Chrysler Spirit ultimately had the last laugh, having been born as just another example of a capable-if-forgettable domestic sedan, but later sitting outside a prestigious art museum in the United States capital city, being written about almost thirty years after rolling off the assembly line and close to fourteen years after being sacrificed in the name of art. It may appear as a mess of broken glass and crumpled metal, but the spirit of this particular Spirit hardly seems crushed, as it’s being reexamined right now, as you read this. Beauty may be found even amidst the ugly, and take it from me that no bad situation has to last forever. It often starts with making different choices, but don’t ever let your own spirit be crushed.
Washington, D.C.
Saturday, November 26, 2016.
Thanksgiving Week.
Click on the following links for related reading on Jimmie Durham and Still Life with Spirit and Xitle.
Click here for William Stopford’s excellent precis on the Dodge Spirit.
I might be tempted to re-name this sculpture as “Merger of Equals”. 🙂
Is this artist now Acclaimed?
Your comment made me laugh when I read it this morning. The boulder as Daimler – it could totally fit. As for Jimmy Dunham, he seems quite colorful and quite an interesting man, based on what I read about him in preparation for this article.
Congratulations on your sobriety, it’s something to be very proud of.
I sincerely wish I could fly you down here to the Bible Belt and set you up with speaking engagements about mask wearing, and your immediate pay-off of better health. No one would show up, though, because they know more than we, (sarcasm clearly enabled).
Stay strong, and the best of luck!
Thank you so much.
His Spirit was under ba-salt!
Congratulations on your sobriety. That’s not always an easy thing to accomplish.
The American version of the Austin/Morris Marina but with a stone instead of Top Gears unlucky piano?.
LOL!
Thanks, Jason.
Mark, I think the one difference between the Spirit and the Marina was that the Spirit actually ran reliably! I don’t have any firsthand experience with a Marina, but that’s based on what I’ve read – here at Curbside, and elsewhere.
Joseph,
In 1998 my wonderful mother agreed to sobriety and did 11 days in hospital for the D.T.’s. My brother and I, to show support, gave up alcohol as well. [With the exception of tonight, when we ring in the new year.] Tonight we will enjoy a single bottle of Moet et Chandon, Grand Vintage Rose, 2013.]
On behalf of my family, we all salute your first year, and I truly will look forward to being able to say congrats on your 2nd year!
When I first saw the main photo and began to read more, I didn’t expect to discover a wealth of knowledge, both hidden and obvious. I’ve survived over 70 years of incredible high points in my life, along with more than my share of very low points, like having a storage building full of my antique cars struck by lightning, not just once, but in 2 different storms 20 years apart!
I believe I’ve been able to survive mostly thru a damn good sense of humor that usually takes the sting away. And in keeping with my desire to share automotive based humor, here a couple of my favorites:
In keeping with the Daimler-Chrysler comments above;
Do you know how Germans pronounce the company name? The Chrysler part is silent!
Now as for the Marina comments;
In a small town somewhere in England, a young lady is walking home from school, and an older man in a new car pulls up along side her. He asks her if she would like a Walls Magnum Ice Cream bar. She ignores him and keeps on walking.
He pulls a bit forward and offers her a new doll if she will get in his car. Again, she says nothing and keeps on walking.
Becoming desperate, the man pulls along side her and pleads with her to ride in his car. This time she stops, and turning to face him, in a stern voice, she says:
“Daddy, I told you if you bought a Marina, I would NOT ride in it!”
Bill, what a wonderful act of solidarity from you and your brother in support of your mom. And I’ll agree that humor has definitely helped to get me through some of the darker times.
Congratulations Joseph, I hope this coming year is good for your spirit. And everyone’s.
If ever there was a spirit that should be crushed it’s that one. I don’t much approve of Top Gear dropping pianos on Morris Marinas, but somehow a spirit rock on a spirit car is just fine.
A spirit rock on a Spirit car – it’s poetic justice! (Is that the literary term I’m looking for? I’m not sure.) The destruction of cars on Top Gear still makes me wince a little but, but there’s a part of me that thinks its entertaining. There was one episode I watched a part of where a Leyland Princess was flooded and I thought to myself, there have to be like five of those left in running order, in the world.
And thank you.
Saw an early Princess at a show last year first one that ran in a very long time they just fell off the roads all at once.
Mazal tov on a year of sobriety, especially accomplished during [that fucking year]. Apropos of nothing, John Darnielle’s “This Year”.
The Spirit reminds me of my old babysitter’s last car – a Plymouth Acclaim from the old dealership on the Old Liberty Road (Florence died in 1993), which I believe her son Bucky drove until his own death last year – from the thing. that thing. yeah.
The last family vacation we had was to DC for a week of Smithsonians, right before the thing. Lordy do I miss the before time.
Thank you so much. I also really miss the “before” time, but here in Chicago, it looks like a few museums are starting to open. I probably still won’t think about going until I’m vaccinated, but I’m so glad that stuff is rolling out.
Joseph Dennis, Congratulations on your one year of sobriety. Facing life sober is the only way to go. Twenty-four years and counting for me. There is light at the end of the tunnel.
Don, thank you, and I agree that this is the best choice for me, without harboring even passive judgement on my true friends who enjoy their beverages. This wasn’t even something I had set out to do on a permanent basis, but I have learned so much and done a lot of work on myself. I realize this is just who I want to be now. I’m already thinking about what my boundaries with others are going to look like once things start opening back up.
Joseph, My moment came very much like the photo. I was on a motorcycle while intoxicated and sustained very serious injuries to my left leg. It is a miracle that I survived the “accident”. I had three surgeries on my left leg and one on my right leg in the first three weeks in the hospital. After a week of recovering from the last surgery, I had four weeks of physical and occupational therapy and returned home in a wheelchair. It was four months after the accident before I was told I could learn how to walk again. The complete story would take more space then available here. What I will say is this, if everything didn’t happen EXACTLY as it did, I would have died that day.
Wow, Don. Thank you for sharing that, which was a lot to live through.
Excellent post, Joseph. This conjures up some (random) things for me:
1. Reminds me of how multiple people, or at least their vehicles, have met their demise from rock fall in the canyons of Colorado.
2. One of the villains in the “Pelican Brief” gets himself blown up in a Spirit when he smashes it into Denzel Washington’s bomb-laden Taurus.
3. Being confused while spending a summer in Mexico as a kid as to why all Spirits there were badged as Chryslers.
I always liked the Spirit and its badge engineered mates. Compared to my parents’ Aries it seemed pretty sleek and modern…but like all rounded K-car progeny, was outclassed by its contemporaries and would have been much more competitive had it been introduced a few years earlier.
I checked the link you included and the rock has a charming smiley face on it 🙂
Thanks, Corey. I will say that when the ’91 Spirit R/T arrived, there was genuine hullabaloo about how great it was (torque-steer and all). That was the turning point at which the Spirit earned my respect.
As a metaphor for live life to the fullest as you never know when something will literally or figuratively will fall from the sky, this post is quite timely.
And, as of this last weekend, there is a gentleman in Denver that quite likely agrees. Interestingly, there is an umbrella in the back window of the truck that survived. That may be art worthy symbolism itself……
Oh, that’s right! The airplane. I can’t even imagine. And yes, the umbrella does serve as some kind of twisted metaphor.
That fellow ought to remove that umbrella, why, it could fly forward in a smash and hurt him.
Reminds me of the old Road Runner cartoons when Wile E. Coyote, facing impending doom from a huge falling boulder, would open up a tiny umbrella.
Kudos on your one year milestone! You didn’t pick an easy year to go sober. The pandemic has increased certainly self-reflection. That has been an opportunity, but not an easy one to exploit. I wish you all the best.
I dropped my younger son off at a long-term residential rehab facility yesterday afternoon. It’ll be his third time. Hopefully “third time’s the charm”.
I love the Hirshhorn. We’ve spent some inspiring hours there, but it’s been a while. I’m really starting to miss museums and concerts and other events and socializing that are such an important part of keeping our spirits up. We’ve been impacted pretty minimally, and are now both vaccinated (first dose), but the lack of stimulation from events and places are very real. I can feel the cumulative effect.
Your posts this past year have helped to make up some of that loss. You’ve expressed the losses we’ve all felt, and shown us the way to cope and move forward. Knowing that you did that while going sober has made them all that more meaningful.
Thank you for helping keep our spirits from being crushed.
Paul, thank you so much. I’ve said this to you before, but I’ll say it again now that writing for Curbside over these past five years has often served as a very therapeutic thing for me, so thank you again for the opportunity to share my finds and thoughts amid this great community. All my best to your son with all sincerity. I had to quit smoking three times before that actually took.
What a great exhibit! I wonder how many people observing it make the connection that the car is a Spirit (curious that a Chrysler badged foreign market car is used)? In that brief moment of alarm when one wonders if it may be real, having deep CC knowledge would be helpful, as the first thought nerds like us would have is, “those Spirits/Acclaims/LeBarons are at least 25 years old and are seldom seen these days, so it’s unlikely to be an actual random car” probably even before thinking “unlikely that a rock would fall on a car around here” like a normal person would.
I echo everyone’s congratulations on your one year mark! Do you think it was harder or easier doing that over this year? There was lots of unique frustration but on the other hand a lot less opportunities for social drinking. Could not drinking also be making you healthier?
While masking and handwashing certainly decreased the openings for infections to take hold, I would give simply not being around people as much the bulk of the credit for no colds (I also haven’t caught any, which has been nice!)
Good observation of the irony that by being destroyed, this Spirit has achieved a level of immortality known by few of its brothers.
Jon, thank you, and in all honesty, I think it was probably easier for me not to drink because of the social restrictions in place. I’ve mentioned in a few of my previous posts that I’m more of a “practiced extrovert”. I actually really surprised myself with what was intended to be a little break from drinking turning into more of a permanent commitment. I won’t say I didn’t break a sweat, but I learned a lot about why and when I feel like drinking, and it has a lot to do with social situations and how I feel about myself.
I’m already planning how to navigate social situations once things open back up, and anticipate that some people may not want to hang with me anymore, and that’s okay. I still want to hang with people, even if I’ll have new boundaries in place and places I simply won’t go for a while before I’m feeling strong enough.
I definitely think the absence of a work commute as I’ve been working from home has helped me avoid sickness. I love public transit and feeling like I’m a part of this great city of Chicago. I’m not a germaphobe at all, but I’m not going to lie. I think the absence of my normal commute did contribute to my health, even if not as much as cutting out alcohol.
“(curious that a Chrysler badged foreign market car is used)?”
Since the boulder was supposed to represent one from a volcano in Mexico, I wonder if using a Mexican market Chrysler was an intentional choice by the artist.
This just brings so much to the fore. Almost makes my mind hurt, but it’s just so timely. It’s a great post all the way around.
While I certainly would never minimize the 1 year accomplishment, I’m curious whether you found it slightly simpler to take this step in a year when we were all forced to do everything differently?
To put that query into perspective, I’ve been pondering life in the future recently, after a year of weight gain, less overall energy, higher alcohol intake and general stagnation. I only worked from home for about 6 weeks at the height of the early lockdown, and have been back in a socially-distanced office environment since June. But the drag of commuting, having to navigate new ways of getting supplies into the house, completing self-care chores, etc. seems to have slowed life down at the same time it’s ramped up the stress. I’ve recently given strong consideration to moving into a condo alone (I have housemates now) and transitioning to full-time work-from-home. I feel like it will allow my energy and resources to be focused more on healthy activities in my off hours and make my non-work life more purposeful. I was reluctant to work from home when it was forced upon me last year, but in retrospect and with more exposure to other people’s experiences with it, it’s really presenting itself as a very attractive prospect long-term.
While I’m neither obese nor a problem drinker, and while I consider myself pretty spry for my sorta-mid-50’s, I know I can do better, and in light of letting things slip a bit over the past year it’s beginning to feel like a now or never situation. I mean if one lets fitness and health start slipping in one’s 50’s it’s going to be a hell of a lot harder to reel it back in than it was at 35.
If I’m reading between the line from past posts Joseph, it sounds like you’ve recently come into more of a self-centric (not at all the same as self-centered) period. I can relate. If anything good has come out of 2020, it’s certainly been an excellent time for introspection. That makes 2021 an excellent time to put our Spirits into gear, I think.
MTN, thank you, and I’d say you’re very perceptive. I try not to “give away the store”, so to speak, but I feel compelled to share enough about who I am as a person so as to give the cars and situations I write about a little more context. This has been a very introspective twelve months for me, and it involved cutting out things, and people, that / who simply do not make me feel good about myself.
Conversely, I’ve been doing constructive things that are good or better for me, and that has helped me navigate this pandemic, also by the grace of my Higher Power.
I could see how living with housemates might present some challenges in changing course in some areas, but even with people I communicate with on a semi regular basis remotely, my closest peops have respected my boundaries and what I’m trying to do.
What you mention about exercise (and it’s never too late to start or resume) is kind of how I feel about drinking ever again. I had only intended to take a break, but this sober thing is just who I am now. I’m #SoberNotSomber, and actually feel more like myself than I have since I was a good teenaged kid. I’ve read it said that it’s “easier to stay sober than get sober”, so I’m sticking with that.
I won’t say that I was a problem drinker as a rule, but in really rough times in my life, my drinks definitely hurt more than they helped, and I definitely did some dumb or hurtful things. I’m very much looking forward to the rest of my life without a beer in my hand. One day at a time.
Your words show spirit, so the Spirit art is quite fitting.
For most, the Spirit was probably a “meh” car. Lacking performance or style, it mostly sold on price. Rental fleets were full of them. I got a blue ’89 model from Thrifty when my late wife and I came back from Korea. The Mustang we ordered at the PX would not be delivered to for another 2 months due to some sort of manufacturing delay. The Spirit carried us from LAX to Lake Tahoe for a vacation. Having almost 60 days of accrued leave and unlimited mileage on the rental contract, we took a camping tour all over Northern California in that Spirit before before finally signing in at my new duty station at the Presidio of SF.
When the Mustang arrived, we drove the Spirit up to Capital Ford in Carson City. Taking delivery and tagging the car in Nevada (my state of legal residence during most of my military service) let us avoid California taxes.
In 1989, a Mustang LX convertible with the 5.0 and a stick was quite a car. But the unusually long leave that allowed our extended camping trip in such beautiful country gave a generic rental car a very special place in my memory all out of proportion to the qualities of the car itself.
As one goes through life, you can fail to appreciate when circumstances come together in a way that provides you with what is literally a once in a lifetime experience. But when you look back, you realize how lucky you were. A blue Spirit will forever be associated with one of my more memorable life experiences.
Let this Spirit serve as a symbol of the spirit you’ve shown over the past year in mastering what surely was a significant personal challenge.
Well done and well written Joseph!
Rob, what you said about the positive association you had formed with that blue, rental Spirit and those particular memories makes total sense to me. I’ll bet it has been a while since you had seen one on the road that reminded you of that trip.
Even now, an ’89 Mustang LX 5.0L convertible would be a really sweet car to own and drive. I seriously love Fox Mustangs recently in a way I didn’t for a long time, when they were seemingly everywhere. I realize I say this about a lot of cars, but I would want one in 2021. And thank you for the good words.
Congratulations Joseph on one year of sobriety!
What a year; my wife and I are into our 12th month of self-quarantining, and no vaccine yet for us (despite our ages). Like you’ve experienced, it’s been amazing though to go through an entire year without getting even a cold.
Speaking of crushed Spirits, we came across this sad Plymouth Acclaim at nearby Mary Baldwin College (now University) back in the fall of 2009. Why it was placed here in front of the Student Activities Building remains a mystery. Anyway, that’s a seemingly much younger me giving the car the roof strength test!
That picture is awesome! That Plymouth Acclaim certainly must have been the victim of a student bonding or team-building experience. I remember seeing a Colonnade-era Pontiac Grand Prix suffer a similar fate on the campus of GMI (now Kettering University) in the summer of ’91 when I was there for a two-week program.
I hope you are able to get the vaccine (that works best for you) soon!
Or a fundraiser. At my high school as part of the homecoming festivities for a few dollars you got to take three swings at a junk car with a sledgehammer.
Congratulations Joseph, and thank you for all of your excellent pieces over the last year. Well done on all accounts!
Thanks so much, Kevin. As long as I have ideas, I hope to continue to write here about them!
If only the car had been a Kia Soul, than the Millennial lament about “soul crushing events” could have been depicted in all it’s glory! As we all know, no one particular generation has had a monopoly on disappointment. In the past people just kept quiet about it and soldiered on the best they could. Not always successfully! As a Boomer I lived through all the “duck and cover” years and still somehow have maintained my optimism for the future. I was watching the Netflix movie about the trial of the Chicago Seven, and I was reminded about all the societal turbulence that occurred while I growing up.
I sometimes think that this current generation is growing up with the feeling that the American party has ended, just before they got their invitation. I hope that isn’t true.
Joseph. First, congratulations on your sobriety. Second, you have been creating and sharing an artistic journey with us. Your posts are art. Your sensitivity and vulnerability in sharing your life’s journey’s with us gives your writing a unique focus, and I’ve enjoyed and benefited from reading them. Thanks for that. Now I’ll close with a Boomer anthem: “Keep on Truckin!”
Jose, thank you so much, and you also put a lot into perspective.
The ’60s and all of the turbulence (both good and challenging) associated with them seem like an incredible time to have lived through. I honestly can’t imagine living in that time period myself, and I think you are 100% spot on in your reminder that each generation has its own set of challenges.
I also appreciate your kind words regarding my own. Scheduling these essays a couple of weeks in advance generally gives me an opportunity to decide before a piece runs if I’ve overshared and should dial it back, which I have done on some occasions. I’m glad I let this one run largely as I had originally envisioned it.
Wonder why the artist cut the roof off.
That is a good question, and I wonder it it was to maximize the appearance of the impact of the basalt rock. Either way, it’s effective.
The more I think about it, it probably had to do with the structural integrity the roof had to the entire car. If the artist had left the roof on, in order for the basalt rock to get far enough into the interior for the most visual impact, it might have done considerable damage to the doors, trunk, hood, etc.
By just cutting off the roof and essentially gently placing the rock into the gutted interior, the rest of the car easily retains it’s normal appearance.
But it’s worth noting that the lack of a roof indicates that the rock most definitely was not dropped from any height onto the car. Plus, dropping a big rock onto a car, there’s no telling what would have happened. The rock could easily have just bounced off the car.
Many thanks for your excellent posts, Joseph. An appropriate metaphor for self-reflection and being resilient – which you have done. Keep up the great work!
Silverkris, thank you so much.
Way to go, Joseph!
I saw this exhibit—the stone-crushed Chrysler Spirit—but until you posted this with the links, I could not recall where or when. Now I remember it was at the Hirshhorn; thanks for that.
Thanks, Daniel. Reading your comment, I wondered if this exhibit was still at the Hirshhorn five years later, or approximately what year it had been removed.
I’m fairly certain that I had photographed this Spirit at the time with CC in mind, but sometimes, it all works out. I like what I wrote here better than probably what I would have cooked up at the time. Ever wish you could recycle the same car photos for a new essay? 🙂 I have wished so a couple of times.
Another deep and thoughtful piece, Joseph. And congratulations on the sobriety; as others have said, what a year for it.
Knowing how you love music, here’s something appropriate. Icehouse “Anything is Possible”.
Thanks, Peter! And this is great. I had never heard this one before, and it would have been released at the beginning of the Spirit’s production run. Anything is, indeed, possible. I remember Icehouse getting a lot of airplay with “Electric Blue” and “Crazy” when I was in school. A few years ago, I discovered “Hey Little Girl” – great new wave stuff.
After I posted this I thought – umm, maybe that’s not quite his taste. 🙂 I’m so glad you liked it, Joseph! Such an upbeat, positive song.
I’ve always been an Icehouse fan. I’ve only got their first album (when they were called Flowers, and Icehouse was just the name of a song on it) and a best-of triple CD set my daughter got me, which includes this. I had it playing just the other day, and this track grabbed me all over again. Their sound changed a little over the years, but I don’t think they ever had a dud album, Iva Davies was/is such a great songwriter.
Well done for a year in control, while events raging outside of the home have seemed OUT of control.
My great-grandmother was born in the West Indies and eloped to NY with the love of her life. She was well on in years when I got to know her, enough to remember her adage about “being kind and treating everyone as if they were your family”; apparently her father had a ‘front’ family’ and a ‘back’ family and the end result was a marvelous mix of people. I have always acted with equanimity in her honor, or in this case, her Spirit, and enjoy living in a well-blended neighborhood as much as my father and his family had done.
As for the car – the wheels don’t seem right. Is this the Case of the Maligned Spirit?
I really liked reading this, and that you took those particular values from your great-grandmother.
Congratulations! I just took 16 months myself. Right on, and I’m super happy for you.
Thank you so much, Mya, and my co-congratulations to you, as well!
Congratulations Joseph on One Year! That’s a milestone commitment in a new way of living and outlook on life. I’ve been in recovery for a while and without it I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t be here writing this. Living in Minneapolis I was in the middle of all the events that transpired after George Floyd’s death. Thankfully my program and friends in recovery helped me through.
Thank you so much for sharing this, and my best to you in recovery. I’m so glad your program is working. I believe that there’s no “magic bullet”, so to speak, that works universally for those seeking to stop something, so to find something what works for one is major, by itself.
I was busy reacting sniffily to this installation as a vacuous presentation, bespeaking loudly, as it seemed to, of the artist’s lack of merit, until I clicked on the link you provided – and realized, it’s a comedy piece! The rock has doleful face on it, quite simply done, but still an excellent combination of “oops, I crushed a Spirit ” and “”what now?” Made me laugh. I can envisage serious types contemplating the thing with grave intonations – and sure, it’s got a bit of a dry comment to make about the randomness of life, I guess – but I reckon that that amusing face might just also be having a little laugh at them doing so.
I’m now nine years without my beloved friends, the ciggies, and I would still invite them in if they asked nicely, but I learned through many tries beforehand that there’s no such thing as “just one” for me. The drink too has been far too much of companion at times, and I have consciously to watch it, always feeling better all round when taking some months off it. Unfortunately, Australia has a bad drinking culture at all levels and walks of life, and part of the challenge is some significant degrees of social separation, if not outright ostracism, that can occur when you stop.
Congratulations on your own effort, and journey. It’s no small thing to relinquish an immediate, visceral and animalistic pleasure for the longer and quieter pleasures of life without, and speaks well of your inner strength.
The pandemic lockdown was very severe in the State I live in, and wore the spirit of the most optimistic threadbare, but there’s another aspect that we can cling to (and largely did): the entire country of 25 million souls has had only about 1,000 deaths, and that alone is a genuine cause for keeping one’s sunny side sunned in the meanwhile.
It is absolutely a comedy piece! I didn’t even know about the smiley face on the rock before researching this artwork and the artist, Jimmie Durham. I had only photographed this installation from only a few angles.
I also hear what you’re saying about countries and bar culture. Each country seems to have a different relationship with alcohol, and I’ll just say that as I grow and consider traveling abroad again at some point, some places may be safer for me than others. That isn’t at all to say that personal choices don’t have anything to do with things, but might be easier to travel to some places for me than others.
Thank you for the well-wishes.
Great perspective, and congratulations on both looking for the good in the past year, and actively creating that good in your own life.
The sculpture? Well, after reading that Dodge Spirit advertisement I kept looking for a Honda badge on that boulder.
Sincere congratulations on your accomplishment!
I have close to 15 hours myself but I’m not really trying 🙂
Paper, scissors, ROCK!
“I say Jasper, what comes after 75?”
“76.”
“That’s the Spirit.”
From “Disorder In The Court” by The Three Stooges.
Joseph Dennis Happy New Year and wishing you continued success with your sobriety. Its been 25 years for me.
Don, that’s wonderful. Thank you, and a belated Happy New Year to you, as well!
Another chiming in here to say good art and good on you ! .
IMO, anyone who won’t hang out unless you get drunk or high, isn’t much of a friend .
It can hurt quite a bit discovering this but you’re already quite astute so I imagine you’ll do this .
Remember : you’re not alone .
Keep the good articles coming, the right attitude is : _GRATITUDE_ .
-Nate
Twenty-two months in, part of what I’ve learned is that it’s not about *not* hanging out with people or doing things, but about making *different* choices and in some cases, hanging out with different people while doing so.
Also, learning more about narcissism has taught me worlds about who isn’t worth my investment in time or emotion. It’s been easy to send up warning flares in my own cybersphere, and watch such people who don’t support my new life choices retract.
I’ve been blessed with many friends who ultimately cared about me regardless of what I was or wasn’t drinking. Talk about gratitude – that’s me, all day.
Thanks for the well-wishes, friend.