-By Mick Brady
First, allow me to apologize for my mysterious absence both from Second Life and from this blog. It was all for a good cause, though, as you will see, and I’m hopeful that things will flow a bit more smoothly from here on in. But then, that’s not entirely up to me; being a child of the universe and a longtime fantasy surfer, I’ve learned to go with the flow.
After a month of struggle, I’ve finally completed the cover design for my soon-to-be-published double memoir, The Edge of Everything, the often harrowing tale of my years of living dangerously in the New York art scene during the Post-Pop Art era of the late 60s and early 70s, and my subsequent dissolution into a psychedelic nightmare resulting from my sojourn in an LSD cult on the West Coast back in the daze.
Fortunately I was able to make it back to planet earth by way of a rehab community deep in the Catskill Mountains, where I spent six months emerging from the darkness alongside some of the original Mad Men, former Madison Avenue execs whose lives had also become unmanageable (a word chosen to describe the indescribable). They were drunks, you see, and there were just as many from the streets of the Bowery as there were from Mad Ave, which made it one of the world’s most interesting social gatherings. As the first psychedelic casualty to land on their doorstep, I may as well have arrived directly from Mars; they didn’t have a clue what to do with me.
My successful completion of the early stages of redemption through rehab was followed in quick succession by spiritual rebirth, marriage with children, a college professorship, a return to art, and finally, safe passage into the virtual world of Second Life where Chrome, my alter egomaniac, began living out the ‘art career that might have been’ had it not been for all that sex, drugs and rock & roll so many many years before. Keep on rockin’ in the V-World, Sir Chromium.
As you can see, it’s a lot to squeeze into a book cover. It was also difficult to come to grips with the essence of the story – having actually lived it – by stepping back far enough to see its overarching patterns and ultimate meaning. Damn near bent my mind into a pretzel (it’s been twisted before, but not into that funny pretzel shape), and there were moments where I just wanted to toss it all, hire a free lancer and get on with my life (or, lives). Somewhere near the end of my rope, though, the concept suddenly appeared in my mind and all I had to do was get out of bed and assemble it in Photoshop. Is there some sort of cosmic free lancing service that I unknowingly subscribed to? A bit of lag in the delivery time, but otherwise, works for me.
That blue sky above the rainbow, btw, is from a photo taken in Second Life, my ultimate destination after surviving the falls. That’s me in my trusty little kayak. I only surf in my dreams these days.