History is in the eye of the beholder and everything has a story to tell. It is our purpose and responsibility to discover, understand and reveal the contexts that make the record worth reading, the art important enough for an audience and the simple pieces from the past deserving of a second glance. If this is true history, then every person contains within their mind a museum of memoirs and masterpieces; the only thing they lack is the frame.
The gallery of my life is filled with fables and frames. Each great hall is painted with memory and the displays within them seem to dance, being constantly restored and revised to tastes of the master curator in my mind.
The welcoming foyer introduces my life in a colourful presentation of material art; a pocket sized camera sits on a table that is so flooded with printed pictures that they seem to have spilled over the edges and onto the floor. This collection of photographs allows any attentive observer to witness the world through my eyes, which is certainly a unique perspective. This camera has followed me everywhere, capturing the beauty of the common and mundane. From bus stop to snowfall, these simple images are the tangible evidence of an artistic soul.
The second exhibition continues the theme of creativity that is found in all aspects of my life. A bookshelf filled with dusty books stands dramatically against one wall. Many other people have inspired my life in a variety ways, but none more, perhaps, than the written words of friends and heroes. Sherlock and Shakespeare have both influenced my thoughts and my vocabulary; however, there is a different book that has been opened much more often than the others. Simply bound, it is a story of mystery, history, comedy, romance, adventure and action. It is the only book in my collection that contains my own scribbled thought or emphasis in ink because there is no sense in maintaining the physical purity of such a work; unlike the others, this narrative was not intended to be read, but to be lived. Here, in the museum of my life, it lies open to a page that is both underlined and highlighted in florescent pink: “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Perhaps this is my fable… or perhaps this is truth…
The focus of the final room is lighter and louder in nature than any of the previous displays. This room, like my life, is filled with music. In a cycle of forty-nine genres and eighty-three hours, the soundtrack of my life entertains everyone I meet; and yet, the goal of my life is not to entertain, but to inspire, teach, inquire, reveal, explore… to make history, true history, and share it.
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