DB: Moments of Clarity
I am heavily considering discontinuing my consumption of alcohol. In part because of the current exhibit at the (soon to be closed forever) Helm gallery by artists Eli Hansen and Joey Piecuch which questions our romanticization of northwest madmen and madwomen, bootleggers and meth cooks.
“It’s Chemistry”, a Seattle friend told me as I questioned my repeated attraction to junkies, “thats why the best sex you’ve ever had is with the worst women in the world.” Thats not really true for me, but some of the best songs I’ve written were with some of the most unbelievable personalities, so I know what he’s getting at. Somewhere my psyche is trying to heal old wounds from drunk uncles and infidel fathers, so I draw these weirdos out of the world and try and love the piss out of them to make them stay. Inevitably I end up feeling rejected and used, and come face to face with my chemistry once again.
I went to both the opening and the “artist lecture” at the Helm, the latter being this last Saturday. It was colder than the gaze of the Green River Killer, so the turnout was a little sparse. Even Joey was M.I.A. but Eli took the Helm (heh) and explained the exhibition to us with the sense and adorable calm of a Western State Mental Hospital orderly. The front half of the gallery was basically a basement laboratory, buckets and thermostats, glass vats full of fermenting peaches, hoses, beakers, heaters, drippings, and a stack of plastic cups to try the “peach wine”.
Sober or no, I fall victim to the widespread disease of social anxiety and found myself ready to leave the gallery after about 10 mins. of waiting for the lecture to begin … until I ran into a middle aged man named John who’s calm nature put me at ease in a way I perhaps cannot explain. We toured the back half of the exhibit together while the festivities brewed to a head.
The back half of the gallery was a complicated display of tinctures contained in multiple unique glass vessels of variable shapes and sizes. They were all corked and extremely interesting based on the list of ingredients cleverly attached to the price-tag nearby.
I had my eye on the littlest vial that contained, “Alcohol, brick from Francis Farmer’s childhood home, and Paint chips from Curt Cobain’s Lake Washington home.” Not surprisingly, based on our previous exploration of my psyche, I am a lot interested in musician/junkie turned suicide, Curt Cobain, and John was very interested in actress turned state-made-madwoman, Frances Farmer. Add in a bunch of homemade superproof alcohol and you’ve got the kind of art I can sink my teeth into. The artists were asking $250 for the piece (undervalued if you ask me), but I offered Eli a genuine undetonated U.S. Military bomb I just found, in trade.
John turned out to be Eli’s father and while he was not overly excited about me giving his obviously “experimental” son a potentially explosive situation, we ended up talking for over an hour about all sorts of things including (but not limited to) the atomic age and the meaning of life. It dawned on me that this very simply stated, human connection, potential friendship, and emotionally rewarding conversation would never have happened if I had followed my friends to the nozzle of the peach wine. I can’t exactly explain to you why it is true, but somehow despite how friendly I become, alcohol makes me sadly very alone. Somehow I become unable to connect properly, as if there is a thin layer of glass between me and the world. I don’t know about you, but being alone for long periods of time, makes me kinda crazy.
Eli and Joeys vials full of invasive plant life and soil from places like Ted Bundy’s childhood home seem to point me to the end of the road for those who saturate themselves in alcohol.
The highest proof you can get in liquid form is 192, which is 96% alcohol. The artists used it to freeze the specimens they collected in time, which is kinda what happens when I drink 96% of my nights, with 96% of the people in Tacoma. I become isolated and emotionally frozen, looking out from a neat little glass vial of the friendliest hand blown shape. Many times I have considered that I might like to experience life in the 4%, but wondered if I would be more lonely than I am drinking.
John quit drinking when he was 38, and based on the peace and profound presence of his character I may do so a decade earlier. Strange that a moment of clarity would come to me whilst I sat in a room full of moonshine and shrines to the maddest men of our time, but this is perhaps the nature of true art. It renders the fabric that separates the conscious and unconscious mind, sometimes making denial very difficult to maintain. I suppose whatever happens I can no longer claim that alcohol is not a problem for me … and it will be nice to be rid of that bomb in exchange for the opportunity to be on this side of the glass vial, looking in at the frozen landscape of my teenage hero’s demise.
Don’t tell Eli, but I’m fairly sure that bomb a dud … I think.
Filed under: DB
19 comments
C chrisroxx March 10, 2009
i think 4% is also the percentage of atheist in the country, coincedence?
R RR Anderson March 10, 2009
This was a bad ass helm show. hey nice work on this one db.
I wouldn’t hang on to your U.S. munitions. Although it might not blow up there are still plenty of nasty chemicals that don’t do a hipster good.
It’s probably best to leave it in a duffel bag at seatac. They’ll know what to do with it.
S Sassy McButterpants March 10, 2009
Good luck in abstaining from the drink, DB. If it makes you feel isolated and alone or you are using it to cope with things it’s for the best. God speed.
As for me, I get smarter, prettier, and funnier when I drink… it’s crazy…
T Thorax O'Tool March 10, 2009
Amazing how booze keeps coming up.
I can’t stand the taste of alcohol, and I’m not kidding when I say I can taste it is very minute amounts… even that 3 proof fruity stuff my sister likes.
Now this raises the question, and I’m not trying to be a troll or anything:
What is so great about alcohol? Can someone explain this to me?
D dni March 10, 2009
alcohol is a lame and destructive subtitute for what the soul craves…unconditional love. It may sound corny, but we all want it, and we all need it. We all are looking for it in some“thing” or some“one”. That solution leads to the exact opposite.
The real fellowship that DB experienced with this person is where I believe you can begin to find “it”.
P penelope March 10, 2009
Welcome Home Daniel Blue
A axthorass March 10, 2009
I love booze it just doesn’t love me back…we parted ways 8yrs. ago[i miss her sometimes]
A Adam Ydstie March 10, 2009
Great column Daniel… thank you as always for the thoughts. I have had thoughts along the same line so thank you for the reminder.
R RR Anderson March 10, 2009
I’m with thorax. I’m not big into the medicinal properties of Alcohol.
I am an avid Alcohol enthusiast when it comes to disinfecting, fuel and specimen preservation.
Everyone should learn how to distill it… for the sake of science!
L Lance Kagey March 11, 2009
as is common with most of your insight – very insightful. I like you.
Y Yman March 11, 2009
I once started drinking agian after a period of being sober because I forgot how to use my imagination properly. For me it was easy to go out and have a drink or 2 or 3… It takes a lot more creativity to come up with something else to do with friends. a few months back I had to put the plug back in the jug. It feels good not spending my nights in a subtle numbness. Good luck man. Peace.
E Earthdaughter March 11, 2009
This is one of those “Aha!” moments, Daniel. Cherish it because it has come from your connection to the Universal Mind. Many of us hear these crystal tones of inner wisdom, but ignore them because they often ask us to give up parts of our lives that are almost automatic. If it’s really important, the tone will come again, but it may sound like a semi about to run us down! Lots easier to act on them when they are “small”!
A altered Chords March 12, 2009
Stop trying to turn Tacoma into Salt Lake City.
M Mark Deming March 12, 2009
How much longer will we have the Helm?
S Squid March 12, 2009
I feel sorry for people who don’t drink. When they wake up in the morning, that’s as good as they’re going to feel all day.
—Frank Sinatra
J Jacinda March 13, 2009
Funny how life works sometimes, huh? Why is it that we romanticize many of those that have lost or nearly lost their minds? Drugs and alcohol in many cases is at fault for this mind loss. Yet, there are so many of us “sane” folks that are drawn to those personalities — always in awe of what seems is their free spirit while at the same time desperately trying to rescue them from a world of insanity, hurt and underlying sadness.That always ends exactly opposite of what we had hoped. But hopefully, a little something is learned from each run-in.
P poison March 14, 2009
chords @13:
tacoma will never be salt lake city.
ever.
have you ever been there? they drink just like everyone else, in fact maybe worse based on the restrictions put on it.
that comment was just reactionary.
I dont think daniel is trying to turn tacoma into anything, i think hes trying to keep himself from turning into what so many creative minds become.
artists dont have to be crazy or junkies to get famous. thats nonsense. we give them licence because we enjoy the spectcle and its wrong.
A altered Chords March 14, 2009
Skiing AND Drinking? SLC road trip!
S Sandy March 15, 2009
I have read “wine maketh the heart merry” and cannot deny having experienced that intermittently since age 16. I have also read,“Who has needless bruises? Who has bloodshot eyes? Those who linger over wine…” and cannot deny seeing that Proverbs 23:29 poster child staring nauseously back at me in a mirror—this my change motivating moment.(Worthy to note that this season revealed who my real friends were.)
A wise man once wrote, “Everything is permissible for me, but not everything is beneficial. Everything is permissible for me—but I will not be mastered by anything.” I find sobriety significantly more beneficial than an alcohol habit. Makes me more successful at attending to things like a healthy diet, getting exercise, keeping up on the bills,etc. Also, life is too short to spend a second of it under the ugly bastard ruthless dictator thumb of social anxiety. Treating that issue with alcohol is like dressing a 3rd degree burn with duct tape and drawing a smiley face on it with a Sharpie. Off-the-wall analogy there—I know, but I needed a fresh one. I confess, my own resolve has had a minor slip recently; I had forgotten that my character grows best outside of my comfort zone. Anyway, thanks for the post Daniel—some of us needed to be reminded.