The self is a fluid and mischievous concept for me, for my self is mischievous. A grin, a smirk, a playful look, an aspect of myself that tinges my moods, humor, and even my appearance. Ever since I was a child I’ve been told that through no actual fault of my own, I would appear to others as though I might be up to something. Even though this assessment paints me in a less then agreeable light, it’s an aspect of self so ingrained, so intrinsic to me, that it’s with grinning demeanor and pride that I lay claim to this aspect of self.

But once, long ago, in a time already worn and tinged by the haze of memory, there dwelled a self, a shade. A Wyatt whose mind, body and spirit are as familiar as they are alien. This me in the shadows, this me of years far gone. Though I consider this past self to be my lesser, this me is resilient, this me survives, this me weathers the storm, facing it head on, uncompromising. How does this child, this pale specter have such tenacity? Luckily I know the secret of this Wyatt, though he is now gone leaving not but  pictures to mark his passing, this wyatt held onto an unshakeable belief in the self, through strength of will, and unwavering conviction to the desire to exist as I was. From stubborn determination, a persona was born. This personas identity was Wyatt, and that’s all it took. A name. That’s all that was needed.

Seasons roll from one to another as the years pass, the small unfamiliar child of the past grows and shifts but still stubbornly held its identity. Sad to say but times had been hard even for the strong Wyatt, the Wyatt who endures. The self is battered, the mind is tired, the spirit is all but broken, and yet Wyatt still stands, Wyatt survives, uncompromising the truth of himself. It is now in this remembrance of this brave soul, the defiant survivor of the past, which I weep for his ignoble passing. The sad truth is that with the fading away of this guardian self, the spiritual death of this little warrior was a major turning point in life for the creation of my current self. Without a strictly held schema of what constituted Wyatt Grodzins I was left free to forge myself anew, to make a new me. A better me.