Fooling around

It was Mardi Gras in Santa Fe, and the Second Street Brewery was crowded with giddy cowboys and short-haired lesbians and doulas-to-be, mingling with middle-aged mystics and aspiring artists, and people were hatted and happy and beaded and digging the beat of the bayou here in the desert.

Dave was shouting over the music how he moved here from Ohio, where everyone settles for what is available, but in Santa Fe people can become whatever they want, producing a strange and motley mixed-up human landscape that you can never really map.

The kids were wanting everyone to adore their imagination parade, though some were shy and sleepy and sat it out.

Hoyun was saying how imagination defines our boundaries, and if we can expand our imagination then we can expand our boundaries and that is how we grow.

My high school art classroom had a poster that said, "Every child is an artist — the challenge is how to remain one."

But now I don't know about that.

There are things you need to learn from life before you can make something strong. The early stuff is like fooling around and getting loose, but at some point you have to decide you're loose enough to hit the field, and then it's a different kind of game, and doesn't feel so much like fooling around.