When I quit work way back on April 4, I planned for epic rest on an uncluttered life. Yet, on the fourth day, I hopped into a car full of my belongings and drove north, east, south, and west across ten-thousand miles and through four distracting months.
When I parked back in San Francisco at the end of July, it was time finally to rest. Yet I rejoined a big Burning Man project to glue ten-thousand dollars of LEDs to the sides of a giant sheep bus while scrambling to finish my spiked Platonic Solids. During the day, I sewed fabric covers. At night, I crimped wires and hoisted panels.
When Burning Man finished at the start of September, it was time to rest. Yet I built a seahorse and installed the Platonic Solids at San Francisco’s Decompression party. I drove north to Sacramento to spend the workweek in Ruben’s apartment coding and crafting.
Right after finishing the Triangles, I boarded a plane for two weeks in Morocco. No rest there, as I lurched on the back of a camel, got pummeled by a nearly-naked guy with a scratchy glove, and roared at the cold sunrise locked out of our desert fort.
Early January brought fever, dysentery, discord, and a dash to finish the Fortune Teller for a January 8 installation at Gray Area. I rode a scissor lift to knot LED panels to the rafters and set up a node server so a web page could message the Triangles with fortunes. Unlike at New Year’s Eve, the Triangles shone brightly throughout the Gray Area evening exhibition. Matt the director kindly bestowed a graduation certificate on me after my congratulatory speech.
Nine months since I quit my job, I finally, finally can rest. I have nothing on my calendar. I have no obligations. I can wake up and decide where my compass shall point today.
I’m liberated. I’m scared.