My Friend Dan.

I've always loved the term, perfectly imperfect.  I'm not exactly sure where it came from, but it's been my life motto for many years now.  It infiltrates everything in my life.  Some say it's a sign of perfectionism.  You leave projects unfinished purposely because you know they'll never be perfect.  So then you can say it's perfectly imperfect.

Perfectly imperfect things are unique.  There are no other things just like it.

I learned today that my friend Dan also loved this term.  Wabi-sabi.  Wabi-sabi cares for all things authentic and recognizes that nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect.

Dan and I worked together in the Spring and Early summer of 2014.  It wasn't long until we began having deep conversations about life, spirituality, emotions, mental illness, depression, and anxiety.  Basically all things deep that normal people don't really get into because they aren't always comfortable conversations.   We worked on an old cabin together at Fuller lake in Pine Grove State Park and an old farmhouse outside of Mt. Holly Springs.  That's where Dan discovered this and captured history with this digital image.  It was a small piece of authenticity from this house that was being renovated into something new.  And then we painted over it.  Ok, I painted over it.  I don't know that Dan could have.

Dan was always encouraging me to check out the Metropolis Collective in Mechanicsburg.   He said I'd love it.  Dan was an artist.  A really skilled artist at that.  That's why I thought he'd be good help for me that summer.  For some reason I thought that being skilled at using a brush would be a good attribute for a residential house painter.  Not the same brush.  Not the same at all.  Dan was an artist through and through.  And I enjoyed every minute we spent working together.  And despite the difference in brush work, he was a fine house painter.

Dan introduced me to one of my now favorite genres of music.  Indie folk.  I guess it's indie folk, whatever Bon Iver is.   It has brought me peace in some of my most emotional moments.  In a way I think only Dan could understand.

At the end of that year, Dan asked me if he could buy a few of my dropcloths.  He said they would look nice for a display they were working on at the gallery.  He then offered me more money than what it would be if he bought new ones and splashed paint on them.   I didn't understand.  His explanation....

"I can't recreate this.  These dropcloths are authentic.  And that's what I'm looking for." 

That's an important lesson for us all.

The creative person doesn't create things for money.  They crave authenticity.  They crave the possibility of what can be.  They create things because that's who they are.  Actually, I don't know why people create things.  Probably a lot of reasons.  You can't put a price on the inspiration we get from a creative mind.   That's probably why you've heard someone say they are a "struggling artist".   

A struggling artist.  

That was Dan.  We both shared our struggles with depression and anxiety.  At times it's debilitating.  You don't want to leave your house.  You feel trapped.  These are the words of a creative mind whose been to those depths.  

I wish I had a hope, a wish or a dream that could manifest.

To escape this sorry life and run away, chase the rising sun until the darkness fades away.  

But it’s like a trap.  The lights go on but I can’t say goodbye from the darkness in my life.  Unseen chains have me locked up, bound and broken, crucified to this lie and I can’t.  Breathe.  

That was me.  I wrote those words.  I placed them in a perfectly imperfect song, one of my creative outlets.  

On August 21 2017 Daniel Kalbach was released from the captivity of those chains unseen by many.  He was in a car accident early that monday morning.  Dan loved many and had a heart for others despite his own struggles.  He was loved by many and will be missed by all.  

These are a few of the drop cloth recreations.  May we never fail to see the value in something old, used and abused.  May we never fail to see the inspiration that can be brought to us through art.  There is something special about a drop cloth.  It doesn't mind getting dirty so something else has a better chance of staying clean.  The sacrifice of ones self for another.

Thank you Dan.  I'll never forget the impact that both your life,  and your death has had on me.  Rest in Peace, my friend.  Wabi-sabi.