Leonard Cohen, 1992

My therapist succinctly noted the other day that life is complicated.  As grateful as I am to Mrs. Duh, I think when Didion sat on the floor of the Doors' studio as they recorded their third album, she had no clue.  Neither did my grandmother, who rose in the ranks of the Communist Party and commanded honor and respect that materialized in caviar and trips to Paris at the height of the Cold War, she had no idea that years later, while reading Isaac Bashevis Singer's "The Repentant" to her granddaughter, she would think about her Judaism but only in passing.  

Complicated comes with so many fascinating clues to just how it will only be exacerbated.  I think the trick is to embrace the impending now and capitalize on the consuming moment that has no before and whose after doesn't matter. I curated a mini exhibition about this.  

brilliant image by Tod Seelie