100 Days 2010.100 The End

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/510

The End

The film snapped to an end and the writer was sad. She agreed with the filmmaker,the answer was simple, that's not to say the project lacked complexity, but the idea behind it was simple. It was about her, you, everyone. She simultaneously understood yet was perplexed. If it was all about her, what did it all mean? She supposed for her it meant taking back up the torch of writing she had abandoned so long ago and using it to light new flames of photography and film. Some works burned bright like fireworks against a cloudless sky while others snuffed out like a campfire left unattended overnight. No matter whether the pieces shined or burned out however, they were, in fact, all about her and each was precious and deeply held like 100 little children gathered in her apron and held close yet she had also let go of the apron and sent all the fragments of her heart, soul, and spirit into the world to be read, judged, or ignored. She started the journey not believing in herself or her ability to make it to the end and for a while it really seemed as though she wouldn't be able to make it through to the end but with some encouragement from some beautiful souls and poets and an internal drive to change the narrative of her old life (She never follows through on anything) she did it. Today she is writing her final piece for the 100 Days 2010 project and tears of happiness and grief are streaming down her cheeks as she does it.

Had she achieved the goal she set out for herself? Had she found the artist within by looking to inspiration without? Gun to her head she would answer yes. Writing her final piece she knew in the depths of her soul she would rather photograph the beauty in urban decay ,write a poem about the death of her father, or make a movie starring her beautiful niece than submit another financial statement. Did that make her an artist? Earlier she called out one of those beautiful, encouraging souls to stop hiding behind her self-dismissive label of housewife and embrace her truly fitting fine cloth cloak of poet. Was it time to throw off her own yoke of office manager and begin to skip down one or all of the paths of poet, photographer, or filmmaker? This question is not so simple to answer, but she surely will begin to give it some thought.

Epilogue

I have been inspired by and enjoyed the work of each and every participant in this project but there are some who I owe a special debt of gratitude for their amazing work, inspiration and occasional support. In no particular order I would like to thank and praise John Timmons, Steve Ersinghaus, Susan Ersinghaus, Neha Bawa, Susan Gibb, Jessica Sommers, Maggie Ducharme, and Heather Lochtie.