Here we are, Evil Pawn’s 22nd Anniversary. Every year, I enter the portal on January 16th, and I say to myself, “I have another five years in me.” This is the first year I have said, “Five years? No, I don’t.” I have seen the rumor mill churn out some engaging narratives only because I said something similar in the soup of the year. Let me elaborate for a short spell.
I’m so into it. The symbolic nature of jewelry and my Grandmother walking this path before me concretes me in this place. I am so not into what it will become. I have never been one to feed the Egregore, but I am not blind to its stronghold as more and more humans convert to the world and less to the true self. It’s definitely not one-sided. I think it has more to do with how we pass through time than anything else. We are creatures of change and constant transmutation.
Trust me, you do not want me to open up a thought portal on the fabric of time and the perversions of art. It is better saved for personal conversations. The crotchet note is that art is not dead. Our lack of ceremony may be, but the notes play on regardless. Art doesn’t die; it only changes form. As do we.
What doesn’t change is my favorite part of this journey. The only thing that will last beyond worlds. That part is the amazing friends I have made. I can literally say I have hundreds of friends, but not because we were all in the same building or town. We found each other through a series of events that linked us. We are bonded by mutual interests and energetic similarities. When I do trade costumes, I take all of my friends with me. This is all we truly take with us when decay sets in.
That being said, I am still here for 22, just not for 30. As above so below, the hermit trades once again with the Fool. He isn’t a Fool to continue; he is a traveler. And here I journey on! I love all of you so much! Tusen Tack!
