July 2014 we moved into this house we live in now. As it often happens, some of the junk had been left behind by the landlord/previous occupants. I had to get rid of a lot of trash left on the patio and in the garage. I could not bring myself to throw away a few broken trellises that sat there though. I have no clue why. Not that they were pretty or costly or unique in any way or I thought I'd fix them. They just sat there and I let them. Rotting, collecting dust, exposed to weather elements - Texas sun, summer rain, what little winter wind there is, but mostly sun and rain. Every time I worked in the yard or just sat with my smoke and drink, watching the overgrown grass, thinking I'd mow it this weekend, distracted by rabbits grazing on grass, hummingbirds attacking and dodging each other on the nectar feeder, birds on the birdbath, etc. I just sat there, sometimes on the phone, staring at the traffic on 99, and many chain store signs on the other side of the highway, beyond the little water retention pond behind the house. Every now and again, my eyesight would wander from the trellises to the dirty patio corner to row of bushes beyond and back, a thought would cross my mind, I would put them out this trash day, or oh, I forgot again, today is Tuesday, the trash is gone, ok, I'll put them out for Friday pick up. But for one or the other reason I just procrastinated. And sat there making mental notes for responses to stupid, sometimes funny or interesting, but mostly stupid Facebook posts and comments. Other times I'd be looking at the birds but actually thinking about a client, or a lender situation and suddenly coming to my senses admonishing myself for wasting time out in the yard instead of replying to that email or writing one to follow up on another matter. Then the mind would reply and admonish back as to why did I waste all these years in the line of work that I have never enjoyed except it pays the bills. Then someone, my wife, or one of the children or a friend or family would call or some other interruption would make me go inside. The internal conversations would be triggered and go on almost every evening I'd be out back with my tea and cigarette, and invariably the response to what else would I do if not continue with work I do not like at all and continue doing, would be, wish I were some kind of an artist. Now this is not out of the blue. I have dabbled in calligraphy, wood working, painting, gardening/landscaping, even a short film, etc. for years but never considered myself good at anything. Whatever it is that has kept me from any creative pursuit was now on the defensive every passing day as my mind would exhort me to just go do something. Just do whatever it is that I'd like, not quitting what I was doing for "work" but just beginning to do whatever it is I'd like - scroll sawing, painting, digging up the yard and designing a garden, etc. And then I'd think of my son's comments when I decided to give Uber a shot a few weeks ago. He said something to the effect that anybody can do all these things you do. (He was referring to my other stints - as security guard, a courier, a delivery driver, etc.) You're a capable man, challenge yourself, etc., etc. His reprimand about challenging myself stuck. A few days ago, upon one of those flitting glances on the trellises, it happened. Reason and opportunity to challenge myself converged. And I thought and thought without any solution how to put them back in shape that they can be of use. But they were in such bad shape, there was no way they could be useful anymore. There was a sort of a parallel between them used up trellises and myself. They had served their purpose and were no good any longer. So had I, I thought. We both needed drastic re-purposing, becoming useful again in some way, or perish. From then on, every time I sat back out, I'd think about finding some other purpose for them. And it was torturous because this was becoming an obsession. And I, a full grown man well on the other side of 50s was stuck, on the one hand with challenging myself and on the other, obsessed about re-purposing the stupid trellises. Or was it it me who was stupid. Anyways, this past weekend a few of the beer caps I had been saving for I never knew what got used, this happened. Trellises got salvaged in crude wall art for garage. It's my turn now ...
