Art & Parkinson’s
More artwork and writing on the theme of “Confusion & Clarity”
Clarity
Hal was riffing on the word “curious.” In just a few seconds, he came out with: “furious, spurious, injurious, penurious, notorious, glorious, laborious, uproarious, de rigueurious.” And yet, at times, he has to ask me for the simplest word or directions to his bedroom.
“I’m a mystery to myself these days,” he said. “Is the lack of clarity clear? Clearly!”
Dual Citizenship
Hal and I were exploring the idea that I am a dual passport holder, going back and forth between two countries. He is sympathetic to my plight.
In one country—my country of origin—I have to be an organized planner and list follower. In the other country, I have to let go and play with him verbally and be spontaneous and accept that not everything that comes out of his mouth is going to be logical. Or even understandable. It’s a country where there's a lot more mystery, a lot more unknown, a lot more I have to try to make sense of.
Every day, I have to travel a long way between the two places. There are missed connections and exhausted moments, but also times of immeasurable wonder.
Hal as Orchestra Conductor
I was telling Hal about the latest idea I had about his Parkinson’s situation—an image of an idiosyncratic orchestra conductor: “His musicians have become disorderly,” I began. “Their music is upside down, sideways, scattered all over the floor.”
Hal broke in: “He raps his baton on the music stand.”
“The musicians raise their instruments,” I said. “He begins to conduct. Nothing makes any sense. The sounds coming out are squawky, discordant. Bits and pieces of the music come through, but just as fragments of the original score collaged together.”
Hal: “He’s creating a new paradigm. Out of the remnants. He has to be flexible.”
“It takes a special conductor to be able to pull this off,” I say.
A conductor, that is, who is at home with complexity and confusion, just as Hal is able to work with the mixed-up snippets of words and phrases in his mind. He is not thrown by their constant stream, not burdened by their untidiness. He accepts them the way they are and signals to them—without judgement or irritation—when to come in and when to fade out.
Morning Sketches
