I spoke to two people yesterday, a musician and an artist. They were both very concerned about saving their work for posterity. My thoughts are very different, and I told them so. Telling them that personally I hoped to leave not a single finger print of having been here at all. They both went silent, or was it their egos I hard quietly shattering. The idea that their work had to live on, was completely foreign to me, as was my plan of disappearance to them.
And yet we all know that a hundred years after you die, no one will know you or remember you. Especially now with crematoriums, you just go, a jar of purified human released by the flames, and blown away on the winds of dawn. Obviously some people do live on – in a way – through their work, but there was nothing they could do about this, it was just the way it was. How many luminaries of today will be known in a hundred years?
Well, anyway, whatever. I just prefer the idea of slipping away, and instead of waiting a couple of generations to be forgotten, let’s crack on and sneak off in a jar of dust, to be scattered hmm .. or maybe mulched into the soil. Surely the only thing wanting to be remembered after death is the ego, telling you that your art/music/fillintheblank is so good it has to live on, when it truth it may well not be. And that’s not even getting into the details how the particular art form may have come about in the first place! That’s for another time.