"To gain altitude is not the ability to focus on the clouds or even the stars.... It's not the anticipation of what lies ahead or what you still recognize as truth in the distance behind.... It's the ability to appreciate what is directly in front of you. To be present in this single moment. To slow down and discover hidden pockets of time tucked in the cracks of your day. To step outside and smell the rain. To feel the warmth of the sunshine on your skin. To watch the wings of a butterfly catch the wind or explore the wonderment of a tide pool. To see life for what it truly is.
Altitude comes when all of the little things become as important as the whole."
This was a response I wrote about two months into sobriety, when asked to interpret a new show I was participating in called “The Altitude Project”. It was a group show, and the theme was entirely up to the individual artist, and left open for the exploration of what “altitude” meant to us.
As part of the series, I painted the piece below titled “Cephalopoda”.
“Cephalopoda”, 30”x30”, oil on panel, 2016, sold
The inspiration came from a trip to Monterey Bay Aquarium in California on my birthday where I bought a book by Ernst Haeckel, called “Art Forms in Nature”. It’s a stunningly diverse collection of illustrated plates documenting “forms of organic growth” with the stylistic notions of Art Nouveau and Ernst Haeckel’s own design principles. As the author puts it himself, it has a “sense of beautiful” and for me possessed the power of uncharted inspiration soaked in mystery and romance for life on this planet.
Something I realized I’ve been missing lately since we’ve entered our new strange reality. Inspiration from life around us, big and small. Which consequently has had me looking inwards for sources of inspiration, and regretting a promise I made to myself four years ago. Oh how I would give anything for my non-alcoholic wine to be accidentally switched in the night with a very alcoholic twin!
This insane world that we’re living in right now is enough to make you question every decision you’ve ever made, that’s for damn sure. And the choice to stay sober is very much on the table every single day for me. But what I remind myself is that I didn’t quit drinking because I woke up in the gutter one day, or because my life was spiraling out of control (at least not that I thought at the time). None of that. It was simply because it was the one and only thing I had yet to try to feel BETTER. And it worked. More than I ever thought possible.
The experiment started small. And as the saying goes, it truly was and still is “one day at a time”. It began with… How will I feel tomorrow if I don’t drink tonight? How will I feel TONIGHT if I don’t drink tonight?? How will I feel next week if I don’t spend my weekend sick from a hangover? How will I feel if I begin to say no instead of yes?? Or, YES to feeling good and NO to feeling bad?
Besides feeling physically better, which was to be expected, how I felt about the world around me and who I was as a person began to change. My daily anxiety was becoming less and less. I started to appreciate the little things. I had room between the extreme highs and lows to feel the feelings in between. My eyes and my heart were open. And what I’ve learned most of all is that no matter how much I thought I knew myself, I had no idea what I was truly capable of. Not until I did every single thing in my life all over again, from celebration to heartbreak, as just “myself”. Not me with a crutch and a glass of “inspiration” or “confidence” in my hand, but a sober, clear headed, socially anxious, introverted person, FULL of feelings and in love with life. More human than I’d ever been, I allowed each interaction, each feeling... good, bad and the millions of shades of gray in between to flow through me, solidifying my new skin until it felt bulletproof. And one day I woke up and saw sobriety for what it truly is… a super power.
So four and a half years later, the experiment must continue. I want to experience it all... the good and the bad, and everything in between. I’m not ready to give up my super power. Not yet. This world is much too fascinating, and this light is much too lovely to shadow in darkness.
…Sending you strength during these times, wherever you need it most.
“Papilio Ulysses”, 16”x16”, oil on panel, 2016 ~ Another piece from the original “Altitude” show. Available now @ Abend Gallery