Warning: this post contains reflective and introspective thought – exit now if you think it will be too much to bear!
When I was a child, I would often find myself doodling in the sandpit, or on paper, or in the asphalt road on hot summer days when it bubbled from the heat. My doodling existed on some subconscious level, and when I looked at what I’d done invariably I’d written the number 42. I can vividly remember being about seven years old and wondering why 42 was such a common thread. I remember thinking to myself, ‘What is going to happen to me when I turn 42?’ Constantly writing this number led me to think it was an age at which something significant was going to occur.
I turned 42 last year. On my 42nd birthday I did my first presentation at the ASLA biennial conference in Adelaide; I presented about my experiences with digital storytelling. I think this was the same day I met John Connell for the first time. I was by myself, but I thought, well, this is it then, this is why I wondered about 42 all my life.
More was to come, I just didn’t know it then.
I’ve spent quite a bit of time reflecting on my year of 42. My life is different. I’ve discovered energy from a medium that I never would have anticipated could fulfill this function. I have people in my life I consider good friends who I have never met. In two days I’ll be leaving it behind and moving to 43. In so many ways this last year has been the most transformative for me on a personal level. I feel like I am moving in a new direction; the year has been one of those crossroad years where you divert from the path and take the road less travelled. I don’t know where the path is leading but I’m happy discovering its nooks and crannies and the interesting foliage I encounter along the way. Roll on 43!
(Picture: The art guy. Source: Flickrstorm.)