The Delusional Grandeur Tour: Last Stand of a Rock Star begins its final leg today. I feel like there should be some grand dramatic gesture here, but most of the drama has already occurred. This is sort of the calm aftermath, like the receding waves of a retreating tide. When you see the final pages, the absence of a full-on finale may make more sense. I’ve found that the most powerful revelations usually do not come about with a bang or a big event – they happen slowly, over time, and any deep-seeded change or transformation, such as what happens to the very land we walk upon, takes years and years to find full fruition.
That is very much the case as the last chapter of The Delusional Grandeur Tour is presented in the next few weeks. You’ll find here a return to my childhood passion – flowers – and within that a return to what I’ve always held sacred. The last two decades have found me on numerous journeys, each rife with the intent to find myself, or in some instances to completely escape from myself. I’ve created an image and a persona that was my way of dealing with pain and hurt, suffering and angst, giddiness and joy, pleasure and desire, longing and desperation, loneliness and love in ways that weren’t always healthy, or even rooted in reality. Not that it was all a dream, nor was it all very real.
My ‘tours’ were escapades that amounted to little more than traveling to see friends in different places, to lift the mundane and reach a higher level of entertainment. Mostly, they were done to deal with a world that grows dimmer by the day, to try to attain enough delusions to disguise the fact that we are all not superstars.
Perhaps I went a little too far…
But what purpose does a flower have other than to show off?
