A Café Table Eternity

The week has begun on a positive note for me – cool and overcast. Unfortunately, it’s also begun with the beginnings of a cold as well; this predicament has led me to my computer and this blog to share some recent thoughts. Over the last few months I’ve spent lots of time sitting around cafés whiling away the time talking to friends and whatnot. This is nothing new,  it has been de rigueur for me  ever since coffeehouses exploded onto the scene back in the 90s here in the US.

A few days ago,  I thought to myself, “What if you spent the rest of your  life sitting around at a café talking and swilling coffee?”‘  I was very ambivalent about that thought; on the one hand I could see myself, sketchbook in hand, firmly ensconced at café somewhere in Europe taking in the scenery, but on the other hand I cringed at the thought of staying somewhere (here) where there is no ambiance or creative spark, even if there are coffeeshops. There was a time when sitting at a café was serious business; artist, writers, and intellectuals all sat around discussing and debating the issues of the day. Such is not the case here in my part of the world. Here,  intellectual conversation is as scarce as water is in the Sahara. As a creative individual this is unacceptable to me. I have chosen to put this into print because I wish to precipitate changes that I’ve wanted to see for quite some time. No longer will I be content with the monotonous rhythm that is so prevalent here in what I’ve sarcastically and accurately  termed Purgatory. I have no interest in patio furniture sales, American football teams, boating, hunting, barbecuing in my front yard, or any other number of banalities that people get excited over these days. Perhaps some of you who are reading this can relate to what I’m talking about; I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels this way.

In closing, I can safely say that, yes, I can picture myself sitting at a café table for the rest of my life. As long as as it’s somewhere else and as long as there is interesting and stimulating conversation to be had you can bet that I’ll be happily ensconced wherever that may be.


2 Responses

  1. I enjoy your work Sal. I suppose your struggle will improve when you get the remaining portions of your brain back. ( I notice most of your figures have only a part of their heads showing ) Best of luck.

    1. I’m glad you enjoy my work Doctor. I’m not so sure about getting back the missing portions of my brain back, it helps with the perpetuation of the “Crazy artist” myth. It was nice to see you and I, too, wish you the best.

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