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Journeys

Watergate gave us the phrase: “What did you know and when did you know it?” While that phrase is used in the pursuit of getting to the bottom of underhanded dealings, it fits everyone’s life journey. Some people have a plan from childhood and live it out. I’m in the category of people who made most of it up as I lived.   There are forks in the road for either group and how one stays on the path is the interesting part.

I passed a building in a neighboring town that is now designated as a cultural center.  The Victorian mansion with a huge open front porch sits on four acres which is unique in our landlocked part of the state.  I used to drive by and dream of owning the place, filling it with kids, dogs and toys and bicycles.

Driving past the mansion one day I saw a creamsicle upended in the side yard. That’s right, the vanilla ice cream pop encased in frozen orange juice was a piece of installation art as tall as the house. It was the supersized version of a toddler’s ice cream accident, one corner of the pop squashed into the ground with the stick pointing to the sky.  The piece did not include the oversized heartbroken sobs of the toddler who dropped the ice cream treat.

It was the early ‘80’s.  I don’t think I had yet heard of installation art. I had friends who had to go see the creamsicle themselves. Obviously, they thought I was a little crazy. I was beginning to stretch my writing muscle.  At that time, I was dabbling in fiction. It made me realize that I was a little different and more willing to see my world differently than those around me.

The old mansion is no longer on any regularly traveled route for me. Now it’s a cultural center with a community garden, classes in art and yoga and it has become seIf-sustaining due to a partnership with a catering company which holds separate money-making events. The mansion has found an audience, several different audiences. It remains an old Victorian mansion but it has a modern twist. My attraction to the front porch and wrought iron fenced yard is different now too. If it was my front porch, I’d love it but I also dream now of a condo with a balcony and a view.

I have no idea how many developers the mansion dodged as it evolved.  When I first wrote about my idyllic feelings about that creamsicle, I thought I could be a writer on the side. I know now that it doesn’t work that way. A writer needs to be all in. I’ve evolved enough to be able to sidestep, the rolled eyes and oh that’s cute hobby without feeling like the smashed corner of the creamsicle. While I evolved, I learned my craft in small ways and I developed a thick skin. It is a good life strategy in any field.  

I don’t know what happened to the creamsicle. I’m certain it wouldn’t have had the same effect on me if the huge piece of art was balanced outside of the Tuscan Dairy plant or some ice cream store. It wouldn’t have provoked a narrative in my head as it did behind the wrought iron fence of the mansion. It wouldn’t have created a dream. 

Lesson learned; not everything comes with a clear path. It’s about the journey. Given the five second rule I don’t mind being the smashed corner of the creamsicle. I’m enjoying the ride.