Pack Creek Ranch, San Juan County Utah
Late spring weather – cold and wet one day, then hot and dry
IDENTITY
If you look carefully at the photo of this lamp, you will notice that it is made of odds and ends of pipes and gauges. The two antique lightbulbs are wired in. Simply said, the lamp is a work of art. One of many created by its maker.
Is he an artist by profession? A do-it-yourself hobbyist? Perhaps an electrician – or a plumber? An industrial designer?
I’m not being coy about this man’s identity.
He wants and deserves his privacy. And I respect that.
He does not market his lamps.
Nor is he interested in having a museum exhibition to display his art.
Commercial fame and fortune have been offered to him.
And he declined.
As far as I know, he gives his lamps away to family and friends.
And receiving one as a gift is a special award.
Still, I say he is a rich man – his assets are inside his mind.
He knows who he is and what gives him joy.
I’ve never asked him to talk to me about his creations.
The lamps speak for themselves.
I admire him and his art a great deal.
“Who do you think you are? What’s your identity?”
The cultural answer is equated with “how do you earn your living?”
Beyond that, the modern age offers snapshots – personal ads.
Dating services, DNA analysis, genealogy searches, and on and on.
“Who are you?”
“How do you answer that question?”
Sometimes people answer with a word for failure or sorrow.
“I’m divorced.” “I’m a widow.” “I’m homeless.”
Sometimes people define themselves with a cultural label for which they are not responsible.
“I’m a bastard – an illegitimate child.”
(That’s to accept a cultural curse – there is no such thing as an illegitimate child, say I.)
I’ve never asked my friend what he does for a living, but it’s clear what he does to make his living worthwhile.
As for me? I am a male human being, a friend, a lover, a father, a son, an artist, a writer, a singer, a dancer, a student, a teacher, an athlete, and on and on and on. All those are legitimate labels of identity. Sure, there are less positive labels, as well. But they tend to fade with the washing machine of Time.
Like my friend, the maker of lamps, I try to see the possibilities in the assortment of all the pieces of existence around me and use my creativity and imagination to make a life that shines.
How about you?