(Editor's note: I stole this one from MySpace)
On the eve of my son's graduation from Oklahoma State University, I thought I'd explain one of my old drawings that I've posted here (and by "old" I mean older than most of the people on MySpace). I realize that this piece isn't too celebratory, but him "leaving the nest" for good has given me cause to reflect on my relationship with my own father.
This drawing is called "Life With Father"
First of all, this is a really crappy photograph, I basically held it up in front of my iMac and took a picture of it, so it's all blurry and lacks detail. Trust me, it's a much better piece in real life.
Now, on with the probing self-analysis of my innermost thoughts...when I was 22 years old. Sadly, I haven't changed all that much since then, at least on the inside, so those of you who are waiting for some incredible spiritual or emotional growth, or some life-altering awakening that comes with age....forget it. At best, you can lose a few of your worst habits, master the art of hiding some of of your other bad traits, and learn from your mistakes after the third or forth try....which doesn't do you a bit of good because mistakes, like the universe, are infinite. You'll never learn enough to not run headlong into another one lurking just around the corner.
Live with it...all in all, life isn't nearly as bad as you make it out to be on your worst days, nor is it usually as magical as those rare moments of perfection that happen when you least expect it.
Okay...."Life With Father"
This drawing was done in 1978, five years after my parents divorced. It was, like most of the pen and ink drawings I did, a "stream of consciousness" work of art, meaning that I simply put the pen to the paper and let it go, without any prior thought as to what subject, composition, or even emotion I was hoping to convey in the finished product.
This one was basically my feelings about my father captured in a freeze-frame snapshot of my subconscience, a snapshot which I can easily relive just by thinking about it. In simple terms (although there are never simple terms when it comes to pain and loss, especially through the eyes of a child), it represents my father trying to play the role of "daddy" to his kids, even though he was never really that good with it even when my parents were together. The drawing is my mental image of a time period where he was supposedly "off on business" (which I later learned meant in rehab for his drinking problems). I was twelve at the time, and he used to come see us one the weekends, and take us to the park. I have five brothers and sisters, and the six of us would, each in our own uncomfortable way, try to bond with our father....and fail miserably.
The figure in the foreground is my father, wearing a mask to both hide his true flawed identity and to assume the role of father, and carrying balloons to....I guess to attempt to either buy our acceptance or as a peace offering of sorts. His unhappiness and sense of not feeling uncomfortable in his own skin is obvious. In fact, I'm not sure he ever felt comfortable in his own skin up until the day he died. That makes me sad.
The tunnel...it represents distance and a thread of connection at the same time. We're miles apart, but we still want to hear or feel something.....anything, to connect us to our father. If you could see the small drawings of the children in the background (which you can't in this poor rendition, I'm sorry to say), you would see the six of us, each in our own world, dealing with the disconnection in our own way - one sister sitting playing with her doll, in a world of her own making, another one assuming the role of caretaker for her siblings, forced to become an adult long before she should have had to, and so on and so on.
And if you look really closely, you can see one child sitting on the edge of the cliff overlooking the trees and his other siblings below...watching quietly, and most likely internalizing and analyzing it way too much, wondering why things happen, and why they can't be different, and what he or anyone else involved could have done differently to "fix" everything...to make it okay.
That child is me.
Whew....this is harder than I expected. Anyway, that's pretty much it, a 50 year-old father of three looking back at a drawing by a 21 year-old analyzing his own feelings at the age of 12. It's amazing how easy it is to do, and how close to the surface the feelings still are. I guess, on the eve of my son's college graduation and symbolic entry into the adult world, I can only hope that I've been a better father to my children than my father was to his. At least I want to think that I've given it my best shot, and that the tunnel between my children and myself isn't as great a distance as the one that existed between the generation that proceeded them, and the one before that, and (as always) on and on and on. And I hope that their mother and I have adequately prepared them for the long road ahead of them, and given them the strength, and the wisdom, and the desire to love life and live it to the fullest.
In the end, that's the best that any of us can hope for....and that's reality.
Voice your opinion on our message board (you don't have to sign up to post). Blogfest 2005 Archives: Keep on Blogging in The Free World (Mark Faulk, Sep 21, 2004) "It's the Issues, Stupid" (Mark Faulk, Sep 21, 2004) The Trust Factor......mmmmmm, donuts (Mark Faulk, Sep 30, 2004) The Vice-Presidential Debate Primer (Mark Faulk, Oct 5, 2004) Is Bush a girly-man? (Mark Faulk, Oct 7, 2004) Kids! Time to come in and get dressed for war (Mark Faulk, Nov 1, 2004) "I Think We're all Bozos on this Bus" and "Dude, Where's My Bong?" (Mark Faulk, Nov 5, 2004) "We're mad as hell and we're not going to take it anymore!" and "The Ministry of Truth Strikes Again" (Mark Faulk, Nov 9, 2004) Vacation....Had to get away (Mark Faulk, Nov 11, 2004) A 'Tribute' to Steve Martin (Mark Faulk, Nov 14, 2004) How Long Can You Tread Water? (Mark Faulk, Nov 17, 2004) "Give the People What They Want" (Mark Faulk, Nov 22, 2004) Home on the Range..... 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