Something Wicked This Way Comes

When I delivered my college's commencement speech for the School of Art, I was a sour yet essentially optimistic 22 year old about to head off to New York City. I chose the Wizard of Oz as the springboard for a heartfelt thank you to my friends and teachers.

It wasn't very hard, the material was all there: young kid from the farm, new friends, new threats, new shoes, new challenges, etc. I chose my words with diligence and delivered the words with ease. I was a much better actor and public speaker back then. I made some folks cry, which made me both happy and sad.

A dozen years later, I’m reminded of that speech as I sit here thinking about a design project I’m working on for a special event centered around the Oz-inspired musical-prequel, Wicked. It’s gonna be in town in late November and I’m downright giddy to be working on the task.

And though I am giddy, in many ways I’m still that sour, yet optimistic man – who is not very original but is occasionally effective. Or maybe just affected?

Nevertheless, I am still afraid of monkeys, but that’s another post for another day.

It’s odd though, how the challenges of a graphic design project can mirror the challenges of day to day life.

I have so much to say and at the moment when I try to begin, I find myself unable.

So, I take to the air. After all, this is my blog and my imagination and I can defy gravity in addition to creating magical force fields. I fly around on my broomstick, surveying the mental landscape, making notes about the things I observe.

I go from North to South from East to West…thinking about where I am, where I’ve been and where I’m going. You were there....and you were there....and...oh....I think I'm going to miss you most of all.

Click, Dorothy, click!!!!!

After a while, my mind starts reeling from the way subjects overlap in all areas of my life, from personal to professional...profound to precautionary....punitive to pleasurable:

Bears.
Beers.
Bicycles.
Black...White
Booze.
Brains.
Color.
Courage.
Death.
Diplomas.
Dorothy.
East.
Elphaba.
Evil.
Family.
Farms.
Flames.
Glinda.
Good intentions.
Him...hmmmmmm.
Horses.
Kansas.
Kentucky.
Judy. Judy. Judy.
Life.
Loss.
Love.
Make up.
Midgets.
Monkeys.
Munchkins.
My pretty.
My precious. Oops. Wrong story.
Pets.
Pig tails.
Pills.
Poppers.
Poppies. Poppies is what I meant.
Psychics.
Redemption.
Revenge.
Rob, grow up!
Rubies.
Rubbish.
Shoes.
Soles.
Souls.
Toto.
Water.
West.
Whiskey.
Witches.
and of course,
Yellow brick roads.

And the only solution that I see at the moment is one: Surrender.

And I say that with the slightest clue what that word means. It just sounded poignant and somewhat noble and new agey....and if you've been around long enough, you probably realize that while Xen Master may sound all nice and stuff, I'm more likely to embrace Ass Master. Alright....Master of Own Domain.

Simply put, there’s just a cyclone spinning around up in my head.

And all I wanna do is go home.