The Public Eye
It seems kind of strange being in the public eye again, though in an equally strange way it is like the first time.
In the past I have relished in public awareness actively seeking the next editorial, the next photoshoot, the next piece of information that i could chase the media for, notwithstanding when it was the media that were chasing me.
At that time however I was fighting a cause and any and all exposure, even the bad stuff, was all equally accepted as 'furthering the cause', shirt jacket and tie, there was little then to make me stand out in a crowd, in fact, my dress code, for want of another word, was more downbeat than my public image and allowed me a certain amount of anonymity despite the regularity of my appearances on television and in the press, living in London also aided a certain annoying calm that caused, not so much annoyance but sheer frustration that i was not recognised by any outside of my street or local pub, at least outside of the military hub.
now, my appearance is a little different, as an individual who has 'found himself' as it were, my fashion sense is quite individual, so individual in fact that even to walk through the town without publicity i stand out quite obviously as a unique individual.
my recent appearance on television saw me in my natural role, as an artist, even the trousers and jacket that i had on for the News had the tell-tale spatters of paint here and there, an obvious clue to my vocation. to cap it all ( if you will excuse the pun) the hat I wear, for sure, allows all those who have seen me in the town to recognise me the instant that i came on the television screen, such is life in such a small community as Kendal.
I see individuals now who see me, some wondering where they have seen me before, some with red faces as i go about my daily business, bar two people everyone that i have bumped into has allowed me some privacy though carry a strange, 'are you not going to tell us about the tv appearance' look on their faces, those who know me and have seen me are just so easily recognised though give me the privacy of thought that i have nurtured over the past few years.
it was scary to go on television again, moreso than the local newspapers, most scary of all was the fact that the content was just so personal and private that there were 2 or 3 cuts in the filming to allow me to compose myself and to wipe away the tears, tears that, although i thought i had vanquished in the interlude, were still visible in the final cut.
Now, I have broken the ice, I have publicly advertised myself, not only as a veteran but also as a former homeless person and artist of human frailty, of raw emotion, that is me, the man with the tears.
I am glad it is over, it has brought a form of closure now leaving the future wide open for me to become more of an artist than i have allowed myself to be in the past. life, college, future, is there anything else, the demons now distant, the present a gift of survival, the future, unknown though for sure simply a product of all that i put into it, not only as an artist, but as a person of honest and integrity.
there is so much of my past that still remains for me to use, education in marketting, business studies and so many other things, learned though now tucked away in readiness for when i need to move forward, along with a deep rooted faith borne of experience and punishments, i am the master of my own destiny.
Where do I go from here, have I done enough to carry me through to the next stage of my journey without straying from canvas, sculpture and other disciplines that i need to express my view of the world, so much to do and so little time but each step of the journey must be taken with caution as to avoid the pitfalls that delay so many in their lives, notwithstanding my own,
Only time will tell from this point onwards.
"But by the Grace of God Go I"
God, Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and Wisdom, to know the difference.
In the past I have relished in public awareness actively seeking the next editorial, the next photoshoot, the next piece of information that i could chase the media for, notwithstanding when it was the media that were chasing me.
At that time however I was fighting a cause and any and all exposure, even the bad stuff, was all equally accepted as 'furthering the cause', shirt jacket and tie, there was little then to make me stand out in a crowd, in fact, my dress code, for want of another word, was more downbeat than my public image and allowed me a certain amount of anonymity despite the regularity of my appearances on television and in the press, living in London also aided a certain annoying calm that caused, not so much annoyance but sheer frustration that i was not recognised by any outside of my street or local pub, at least outside of the military hub.
now, my appearance is a little different, as an individual who has 'found himself' as it were, my fashion sense is quite individual, so individual in fact that even to walk through the town without publicity i stand out quite obviously as a unique individual.
my recent appearance on television saw me in my natural role, as an artist, even the trousers and jacket that i had on for the News had the tell-tale spatters of paint here and there, an obvious clue to my vocation. to cap it all ( if you will excuse the pun) the hat I wear, for sure, allows all those who have seen me in the town to recognise me the instant that i came on the television screen, such is life in such a small community as Kendal.
I see individuals now who see me, some wondering where they have seen me before, some with red faces as i go about my daily business, bar two people everyone that i have bumped into has allowed me some privacy though carry a strange, 'are you not going to tell us about the tv appearance' look on their faces, those who know me and have seen me are just so easily recognised though give me the privacy of thought that i have nurtured over the past few years.
it was scary to go on television again, moreso than the local newspapers, most scary of all was the fact that the content was just so personal and private that there were 2 or 3 cuts in the filming to allow me to compose myself and to wipe away the tears, tears that, although i thought i had vanquished in the interlude, were still visible in the final cut.
Now, I have broken the ice, I have publicly advertised myself, not only as a veteran but also as a former homeless person and artist of human frailty, of raw emotion, that is me, the man with the tears.
I am glad it is over, it has brought a form of closure now leaving the future wide open for me to become more of an artist than i have allowed myself to be in the past. life, college, future, is there anything else, the demons now distant, the present a gift of survival, the future, unknown though for sure simply a product of all that i put into it, not only as an artist, but as a person of honest and integrity.
there is so much of my past that still remains for me to use, education in marketting, business studies and so many other things, learned though now tucked away in readiness for when i need to move forward, along with a deep rooted faith borne of experience and punishments, i am the master of my own destiny.
Where do I go from here, have I done enough to carry me through to the next stage of my journey without straying from canvas, sculpture and other disciplines that i need to express my view of the world, so much to do and so little time but each step of the journey must be taken with caution as to avoid the pitfalls that delay so many in their lives, notwithstanding my own,
Only time will tell from this point onwards.
"But by the Grace of God Go I"
God, Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and Wisdom, to know the difference.
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