Yet again my thoughts return to a once frequently used quote of mine
“Sanity is a Cozy Lie”. This time those words were shown in a picture
taken six years ago by a friend at art school. They really seemed to
ring true during my time at Chester College of New England. Not only was
I finally taking the plunge into really making art and risking becoming
like the one person I truly saw as an artist, my mother, but my close
friend had recently disappeared due to a psych ward visit. She just
decided to check herself in and take a break but nobody had any idea for
over a week! I finally received a postcard decorated with the profile
of her doctor and his exaggerated ear that listened intently to all she
could divulge.
This quote had come into my mind earlier than this
though. It emerged while living in the strangely contradictory town of
Snohomish. Most who pass through remember the traditional quaint décor
of First Street. They can explore numerous antique shops and local
restaurants with no idea as to what else could exist near the riverbed.
Many small towns exude this delicate first layer while masking whatever
issues may be hiding amongst the community, but somehow I don’t think
they are as strange as those in Snohomish. Maybe it is my own bias which
does affect these stories, of course. I have told them many times to
new friends and near strangers who are continually shocked. I am getting
distracted though. The main question at hand is, why ‘sanity is a cozy
lie’? Why?
Simply put we all mask our quirks. Some of us may
collect something a bit obsessively, check the lock a few times before
leaving, or avoid high places due to a fear. Yet we hardly share these
facts if there might be a shred of abnormality involved. We wonder when
it may cross over the boundary of just a quirk to an illness. When
should we check ourselves in?
More importantly, why should we even
think that? Why can’t we all have our own little quirks? What if we
simply let go and don’t worry about the societal perspective on these
personal oddities? Is it normal to be sane? Or are we all just
pretending? Would we all enjoy prancing about free of all societal
restrictions if possible?
Maybe our routines just loop us into neglecting our quirks and we get stuck. I will continue to contemplate this tonight and hope to post a more concrete response soon.
