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The End Of My January Myth: Art Opening

Stare at endings. And I don’t mean look at them real hard because that’s too conscious and willful. Staring is a different kind of thing where you sort of disappear so the thing you’re staring at can relax and be what it is. So endings. All kinds. Stare at them. Stare at them long enough and something happens. They don’t stay put. They—I don’t know—jostle or something. It’s like they wiggle. You know? They do a little dance. And when endings start dancing, that’s when you begin to move into the quirky little understanding that the end is ending. Yes. Endings end. Everything ends and then? Well there’s only one thing left to do, silly. Begin again.

I’m not going to write about mourning and grief this January. This is the year when I let my dead friends die. No time for the past. No time to dream of spring. The January thaw is fertile.

Dan Parker was with Chris Delaney the night he was struck by a car and killed, January 16, 1986. Dan Parker is an artist.