Friday, October 20, 2006

 

Playing Favorites

I feel compelled to explain the Seth Godin jag I've been on lately. Whenever I'm impressed with a writer, an artist, a band or musician, I tend to snarfle down whatever I can find by said creative person. I've not gone off my rocker or slipped into some obsessive ga-ga world that I can't get out of, although that's the way it might appear to those living outside my cranium. When my aesthetic has been tickled, I binge with delight until the intensity wears off. And, it WILL wear off. The length of the binge depends upon how much material the artiste has created and how varied that material is. In the past, I've binged on Duran Duran, Ultravox, Enya, Neil Gaiman, Carol Bly, Christopher Moore, U2, Peter Mayer, Queen, INXS, Matchbox 20, Conversations with God, self-help books, Agatha Christie, Sherlock Holmes, unsolved mysteries, Alfred Hitchcock short stories, quilting, beading, ABBA, homeopathy, Depeche Mode, Dave Matthews Band, Moby, marketing, feng shui, astrology . . . the list goes on (and I see that I've also binged on topics, as well as artistes). Once the intensity of my interest subsides, I fast, sometimes deliberately avoiding said artiste or topic for a time. It's at this time that my brain seems to be deciding what I'm going to incorporate into my quirky worldview, and what I'm going to discard as pure bunk or clutter. However, the fondness for past favorites never goes away. When I return to one of them, my thrill returns, but not in its original technicolor splash. Instead, a soft pearlescent affection overcomes me.

Seth, too, shall pass.

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