I’m decoupling from the Lowe Mill / Flying Monkey Arts community, a remarkable institution that has sprung up in technology-oriented Huntsville, Alabama. I’ve been associated with them since 2007 and they have influenced me in unexpected ways. The people have motivated me to improve as a photographer, and see like an artist. They’ve inspired me to do things I never would have considered before, so how can I not be grateful for that?
As for fearless and outrageous Crash Boom Bang Theatre, I know I’ll miss them the most and I miss them hard already.
But as the notorious Facebook relationship page says, “It’s complicated.” I’m sure I wore out my extended welcome with certain key members of the community a while ago, and I admit the feeling is mutual. If you want details on my defects, you’ll have to talk with them. I’m taking a brief break from putting myself down. Meanwhile, I’ll just haul off and say that the Mill/Monkey heirarchy has an insularity and a constant need for self-congratulation that is very off-putting, and these qualities alienate people who would otherwise love to be a part of this adventure.
I also let my life revolve around that place way too long, yet I never did figure out the code. The social dynamics of Lowe Mill resemble high school, a time when I made the usual adolescent mistakes and learned from them. I have no interest in making those same mistakes again decades later. And the actuarial tables say I’d better get a move on if I’m going to make new and more interesting mistakes to learn from.
So there. I’ve seen the old building before renovation as a hulking death trap. I’ve seen it grow into a fantastic convergence of creative people that can bring out abilities one never knew existed. But now, I must see it receding in the rear view mirror.