MY
WEEKLY BOG<\/p>\n
CARETAKERS
OF OUR MEMORIES<\/p>\n
There\u00a0is an ancient Arthurian legend about a mystical isle called Avalon, a Utopian\u00a0Paradise inhabited by witches, sorcerers, fantastical winged creatures and\u00a0faerie queens. Avalon supposedly existed outside of normal time and its\u00a0entrance, a bridge between the dense earth realms and the ethereal realms where\u00a0miracles and magic dwelt, was veiled in heavy mists. Believing it was there parted
the mists and kept it alive and accessible. But if no one remembered to utter\u00a0the requisite incantations and prayers of devotion to soothe the spirits at the\u00a0gateway, Avalon would melt into the ethers and be lost forever.<\/p>\n
We are\u00a0all caretakers of our memories. We are responsible to keep breathing life into\u00a0them so they can continue to exist. If we remember and relive exquisite moments,\u00a0powerful performances and the people we loved that left us breathless, they\u00a0will remain with us forever and we will feel full. But if we forget them, these\u00a0same memories will dissolve into the mists like Avalon did, and we will feel
bereft and empty. We\u2019ll know that something is missing but we won’t know how to\u00a0get it back.<\/p>\n
I have\u00a0the good fortune to call John Densmore, the Doors drummer, a friend. He is the\u00a0antithesis of the archetypical narcissistic rock and roller as he is generous\u00a0and curious about things besides himself. He\u2019s also a wonderful writer and I\u2019ve\u00a0edited two books for him over the years. One afternoon, I went to his house to work\u00a0with him on a short piece he had written and when we were through, he led me
into his studio. I sat on a chair, he took his place behind his drums and said,\u00a0\u201cThank you for the gift you just gave me. Now here\u2019s one for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
He\u00a0began to recite a beautiful poem called \u201cCircling the Daughter,\u201d by Etheridge\u00a0Knight, and accompanied himself with drum beats and the spaces in between.\u00a0The poem was gorgeous and the moment was breathtaking. \u201cThe rain fell with a\u00a0fierce gentleness,\u201d he chanted. \u201cBegin your dance with men with a Grin and a Grace
of whirling.\u201d<\/p>\n
As I\u00a0took it in, it knew I was experiencing a moment that never would or could be\u00a0repeated. A one man show for a one person audience. Here and gone like a\u00a0Buddhist sand painting. There were no cameras and no tape and I realized that I\u00a0was responsible for keeping it alive. And I have done just that.<\/p>\n
As I\u00a0write this, I\u2019m reminded of a ballet in my company\u2019s repertoire called “The\u00a0Abyss.” When the lead ballerina and her partner performed it, I stood in the\u00a0wings to watch. It was so intimate, they were so immersed in the emotions and\u00a0each other, it felt like I was eavesdropping. They have both left this earth,\u00a0but I still remember their performance and I always will.<\/p>\n
When\u00a0you see something beautiful and keep it a secret, it begins to dissolve at the\u00a0edges like a dream that you chase but you never catch. If you create something\u00a0precious, in most cases, not sharing your expression can be a waste of a thing\u00a0of beauty. Let it go out into the world like a wild bird, let it fly free and\u00a0follow its journey. Some people will love it, others won’t, but their opinions have nothing to do with your process. We are all searching for meaning,
it’s a thorny path and often a tough road to hoe, but what you create might\u00a0spark inspiration in someone else and make their life path a little bitvgentler.\u00a0<\/p>\n
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MYWEEKLY BOG CARETAKERSOF OUR MEMORIES There\u00a0is an ancient Arthurian legend about a mystical isle called Avalon, a Utopian\u00a0Paradise inhabited by witches, sorcerers, fantastical winged creatures and\u00a0faerie queens. Avalon supposedly existed outside of normal time and its\u00a0entrance, a bridge between the dense earth realms and the ethereal realms where\u00a0miracles and magic dwelt, was veiled in heavy […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":2009,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2010","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-blog"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2010","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2010"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2010\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2009"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2010"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2010"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2010"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}