Life is full of futures missed, as crossroads need and demand to be taken.
This weekend I realise the extent of this. I am gladly, hopefully, proudly enlisting in the world of law – yet at the same time I spent the last year or so working myself into a place of culture; believing I could be an artistic force; trying so very hard to be something different.
I failed in my attempt as it became financially, grossly, utterly unsustainable.
If I had continued, if good people had not helped me step off this gorgeous treadmill, if they had not sent the wonderful LJMU “MA in Criminal Justice” my way, I would still be creating to little pecuniary end.
Instead, as it stands, I am looking to a much brighter future: the changes being wrought to my being, my perspectives, my horizons, my mind’s eye, are profounder than I can ever have imagined, and the results – long-term – will be equally profound.
And even so, I sense great loss: the feeling almost of grief I cannot shake.
People who love me tell me you can write poems or take photos a couple of hours a week. But it’s not the time used in the taking or doing that makes the act worth perceiving: it’s the long periods of time being a thinker outside taking and doing which pushes the envelopes of imagination and creativity.
Soon I shall be overwhelmed with huge reams of material to process. That is right, fair, and clearly my duty now.
It is also my desire: more than you might realise.
But at the same time I do sense the ship of artistic endeavour vanishing from my life. I will become an odd-jobber of art, if I manage to do anything at all. And I fear my own being will not allow even that. I shall become wrapped up in what for me will be the adventure of brand new legal learning.
And I am so very grateful for the opportunity to do this: I am so very grateful to those who have made it possible.
And I cannot thank them more than anyone might be able to thank anyone for anything.
Yet still I sense loss, and profound feelings of grief.
Give me time, and be kind to me.
I will soon, very soon, overcome these feelings. And then everything shall be different. And Mils the artist will then be Miljenko the legal brain.
Maybe it always was thus. And so art was the real blip.