The End
I've decided to stop writing on this blog.
In the three years that i've tried blogging this last year is the reason why i've decided to quit. I think i had some stuff at the start that was pretty much fun and/or useless. And i think i had a few entries in the second year of it all that really reached out, and said some stuff. Once i'd settled into the routine of writing and found people who would read it i found a bit of courage to open up. Maybe in there somewhere you can find an entry or two that is something which truly shares and is capable of settling into the heart. But in the last year i've lost a lot of faith, lost a lot of direction, and just given up more than anything else. The entries i've written in the last year are pretty much all friends locked, and most of those for specific, tinier groups. I think it was mostly stuff i needed to say to myself, and i didn't realize it.
The last year of this blog has been weak jokes, top five lists, and a whole lot of really depressing words speared into a handful of people. I'm not going to let that keep going. It's melodramatic and disconcerting. It's self-centered. It's not something people want to read, and something people shouldn't have to avoid.
So if there's any way for me to really say anything it's only going to happen after a whole lot of changes to who i am. Right now i'm just too sad and crazy and confused to really write anything people need to be reading. And that's not sharing, it's a cry for help. And the last thing i need right now is people helping. I need to help myself. A process like this can and will take some time. Solitude does not come over a weekend. It's a decided alteration to your trajectory in life, and it only has it's affects when you can't recognize the landscape any longer. Journeys like this take time, and i've already been silent on this site for a couple of months. No one has been upset so far. And that's probably for the better.
Where I'd Like to Leave You
So, if you are still reading this blog, i'd like to say some things before i ramble on. There's a lot i'd like to say, really, but i'm going to do my best to keep from barfing up another novella length entry if i can (yeah, right). The only real way for me to address the weights on my heart with any brevity requires my topics to be familiar and practiced. Since 1999 i've kept a book with me almost everywhere i go. I call it the book of chaos, in reference to my friends in the Chaos Engine and the nature of Faith in Chaos that i've practiced for years. It's a book about my religion, a summary of the droves of fantasy and s-f worlds i've conjured and inhabited, and it's a record of my philosophies. In specific are the New Years Reviews. Sometime in the first week of each year i write a page dedicated to the last year, in retrospect, and reverence. One ninth of that page is a panel where i write short thoughts about seven words that resonate with me.
I'm going to do that now, not in any honest capacity, because it would only be more melodramatic drivel; this is an attempt to remember what those words mean to me when i am not waiting for the venom to purge. I'm not going to say what i've written in them for last year, 2010, (it's pretty grim) and i'm not going to say what i'm feeling now, three months into 2011. Instead, i'm going to skip the quest toward self-realization, and just say what my heart would remind me on the best of days.
Because there are three versions of me you'll meet. The first is the part of me that is still setting out, still seeking to ask the questions unanswered. The second is the me that's in the thick of it, dealing with the harder aspects of believing what you know is true, and coping with everything you didn't realize the truth would cost you. And the last version is what we all become, eventually; the self that has all the explanations, finally, and is filled with the wonder and love for every step along the path that got them there. We change back and forth between these people, the one who asks, the one who is shocked to learn, and the one that is content with the revelations. And right now i'm mostly in the thick of it, but when it's quiet, and the clouds have covered the sky, and i've been through missing all the people and forgiven myself for all the foolishness from the trek to here, where it's finally peaceful...That's when i remember all the things i already knew.
Friends
This is the hardest thing for me to speak about. There is bitterness and anger and hurt and so, so much fear in me when i hear that word now. But if you asked me what makes me smile the most, it would be looking back on the memories of all the magnificent people that have come through my life. There is still some part of me that hates and refuses to believe that friendship is designed for a passing thing. But if that is true, and friendship only exists as long as the patterns that govern us allow, then i will learn to be okay with that. I will not let it cheapen any of the gifts i've been given by friends i wanted to keep. Because i've wanted to keep them all.
I used to classify my friends as present, away, or gone for good (i considered the latter 'lost'). I'm not sure about that, now. I've heard it said that you have friends for "a reason, a season, or an age." I'm also not sure about that, now, either. It seems everyone you love eventually passes into an afterthought. It seems everyone you take for granted disappears at some point. No character is in one comic their whole career. They go off, into their own title, or a mini-series, or join a new team. I guess i've got to be okay with that.
I spent the last decade preaching a promise of everlasting friendship. I told people closest to me, that, if we just tried, if we were honest and admitted that we wanted to be around each other, we could be. Togetherness was only a choice, and life is nothing but choices. That's one of the things i've lost faith in. I'm not sure any friendship can last an age, even with the explicit participation of everyone involved. It hurts like hell to admit that. But ignoring what life has put me through would be even more dangerous. My questions now are about the nature of friendship as it goes throughout life. I need to figure out why it hurts to believe in friends that are there, always, and not just in passing. And what to do about the people i care about so much, but can't seem to keep them close.
What i will say about friendship
No matter how much i miss you, i'll always be smiling when i think of you. No matter how much i wish you would come with me, or just give me a reason to stay, or, above all else, actually be there when i'm most hurting, i won't fail you by giving up myself, or harboring any spite. And i won't betray you any longer by assuming there can be any difference between the person who is at my side all the while, and the loved one that flickers in and out of my life in once-a-year visits. Eventually everyone becomes a cameo in anyone else's life.
Some friends are stars, by which you set your course every night, and others are like comets, illuminating the sky when it's their time and then vanishing for a great while. To both you tie expectations, when you will see them next, and what they can give you. But tethering a value to that presence is dangerous. Value first and only the moments you've been given, because if you have at least one good friend in life, for any stretch of seconds, you've got more than your fair share. And don't be afraid of the starless nights, because they're bound to happen.
Romance
It's strange that this is the second word in this order, because the only other topic this hard to talk about is Romance. And why shouldn't it be? Romance and Friendship are trite ways to delineate between two types of Love.
This last year revealed a horrible part of me. Underneath all the layers of self-conceived defenses and rationalizations there exists what i really am. Shamefully, stereotypically, i'm quite sad and alone. Some conversations and introductions have finally revealed this to me, and admitting it has been no small thing. It's such a disgusting flaw to me, to be so wounded out of petty need for the attraction and affirmation of a girl. It's even worse when i come back, time and again, to the many traps i've laid out for myself, designed to snare any attempt at just going out and finding another person to be with. I've gotten to know myself well enough to see that i'm not ever going to get over certain things about life, and how i want to live it, and how that makes romance a short fuze on a very destructive weapon. You'd think that would kill any desire or need for the thing, right?
Well, i'm finally unable to deny it. It's not true, i do wish for romance. As my good friend the Wizard said, "It's obviously something that's causing you pain." Well, maybe it's that simple after all. Although sometimes i fear i've intertwined a desire for companionship with the misery of being lonely. Whatever the explanation, i'm unhappy about who i fall in love with, and how i can't get out of it. Another friend told me that "if it can happen once it can happen again." And i realized when he said it that such sentiment is not a comfort any longer. It's received more like a threat for me. "You mean i'm going to go through this hell again?" i thought.
But what it is for me, and what it's done to me, doesn't define it as a whole. And now that i'm a little closer to stillness i can remember all the other shades of it, even the wonderful colors it showed to me so long ago, before it was a burden, back when it was a pair of wings...
What i would tell you about romance
It's never the same. And you won't find it by looking. Romance is like the weather, all the patterns it displays can't promise the next bright day or the next terrible catastrophe. We all see, for the most part, what's coming, but there's nowhere on the planet we can go where things will be wholly safe. No matter what kind of place you make for yourself, you're going to deal with darkness and cold as much as you deal with brightness and warmth. Romance can destroy irrationally. Romance can be the only thing that keeps you alive. And if you're beautifully vain, it can be ignored entirely.
Every other relationship i've observed--my parents, my cousins, my friends--none have taught me what to expect. It's all just another story in a world that's full of the unexpected. Romance is horrible. Romance is the only true happiness. Romance is boring. Romance is breathtaking. Romance is easy. Romance is miserable work. Romance is different for each pairing between people that find it. Sometimes ephemeral. Sometimes the definition of a lifetime. Romance is as predictable and varied as every person you'll ever meet.
Life
Life is beautiful. We are defined as much by our suffering as we are by our scrapbooks. We are tethered to our hopes and fears with equal length and restraint. We are cowardly, and that's what makes every hero so real, and so worth uplifting. We are violent, but we can create; "Our ability to create makes us like God, our choice to do so makes us different from everyone else."
Some days my life seems so long and so wretched, as the look back keeps unearthing more miserable detail. Some days my life is too short, and all the moments i've wasted, that i just scattered to nothing with a lazy exhale, are the greatest of my sins. Other days my life can't seem to escape the limits of when i punched the clock. And other days my life blurs between the hours, the exhilaration from all the awesomeness keeping my eyes open as my exhausted body cries out for sleep.
Five years ago i was the man i wanted to be, but still held back, still with bigger plans to hatch. Last December i admitted that i will never be who i want to be; not without giving up on wants or hopes tied permanently to things outside my control. As of tonight, i don't know what to do next. I don't have a home any more, i don't have a destination, and i don't have a dream left for a banner to march under. I'm not self-reliant, but i'm not miserable. I'm not healthy at all, but i'm not dieing (any more than the rest of us, i suppose). I'm stuck in an inexplicable balance, giving me the calm to choose what happens next, just like all the choices i made to this point.
What i will say about life
Life is beautiful. Don't live each day like it's your last, our you leave no value in tomorrow. Don't forget the weight of the past, regret is a candle burning in the window. Never stop running. Don't walk toward what you want. Run.
There's nothing wrong with wasting your time determining what you want to do with your time. But don't get angry when you run out of time. Don't force art, let it come to you. And don't wait for epiphanies, seek what you want to know, even when you don't want to know it. Ask. Seek. Knock. The absolute worst response you'll ever have to deal with is "I don't know." And that's not so bad at all.
Beauty
The field of aesthetics is such a broad and wonderful range of opinions that it often becomes a great battleground. I've been obsessed with more than one type of beauty in my life, and not just the subjects of traditional arts and humanities. I've had my hobbies as well. I'll say it here: i wish i could really smoke a pipe, as in 'well.' All i ever seem to do is singe the brier and spit into the bowl, spoiling the embers. Of all my comics i've collected only one box is filled with crap i'd sell. And of all the stories i've written i refuse to forget even one of them. Some part of me knows what the next few blank pages are going to say.
I fell in love with drawing when i was a boy. I fell in love with writing when i was a young man. I fell in love with story-gaming when i was an adult. And at the end of it all i keep a secret quote from one of my old friends, the poet and prophet, Ithamar Conkey, "It seems the act of art is secondary for you, to the act of creating."
Maybe he was right. Every few days i pause, look back at all the little notes, books, stickers, and piles of crap i've accumulated for the production of what's been thought of next. And i wonder, am i doing this for the end, or the beginning?
I know now, sadly, that i need an audience, of at least one. Doing anything for myself feels empty, and dies before the pen can scratch paper. If i am going to keep doing anything like this, i need there to be someone else who genuinely cares about it, someone outside of me. Discovering that person is a dangerous request, however, and i'm still to scared to ask it. I'm still afraid i'll find out that nobody ever really cared about any of the things i thought or believed. But if i were to speak as someone that has a reason to speak, i would say that Art is symbiotic, and there's a reason for that.
What i believe about beauty
Listen to me now: It's okay to like something someone else likes, even if they introduced it to you. It's okay to hate something someone else likes, even if they introduced it to you.
When something is presented to you, try to like it. Don't assume, don't write it off, don't give up on it until it's failed you. Don't be cynical. I would never have gotten through Trigun if i didn't have a crush on a girl that loved it. And that could have been a terrible mistake. I never would have read The Elric Saga if i hadn't been loaned the novels by a highly respected friend, long before my personal opinions and goals became so set against such fiction. But without that foundation in my younger days i'd have no respect for my enemy, and i'd be an even bigger fool.
Art, of any kind, is defined to me by this (Thanks, Crow!): the symbiotic relationships between someone creating and someone loving the creation. That relationship has no rules, and no keeper. Do not disrespect someone by disliking their adoration of anything.
Art, by my definition, can only be judged in one way, by looking at the intentions of the person creating it. There is no good or bad. There is no classic or cannon. There is no natural or educated. Even the most poorly written crap can change a persons life from miserable to wonderful. Even the dumbest songs can play two people into a romance that finds them both forever fulfilled. The only thing that can be condemned in art is the intentions of the creator, and even then it can often produce, quite surprisingly, wonderful things. If someone is trying to hurt you with design, expression, or any other thing, it's hurtful, and you have the right to respond. But telling a hate-monger their prose is derivative is missing the fucking point something fierce. And shutting down a would-be hero for failing to recognize their mistakes from an academic point of view is a sad endeavor. Spend as much time as you want training, practicing, and honing your skills. Say whatever you want about raw talent verses time-worn development. But don't ever loose touch with the passion for what you do, or the message you're trying to convey. No amount of critical acclaim makes up for having a point, and no amount of talent or skill will be remembered if the result is aimless.
If you want beauty, don't think about it. Thinking creates the logical bars that build a prison. Follow the passion of the thing. Learn from the parts that break, not the parts you identified as dysfunctional and never imported into the final product.
Don't listen to critics. Critics are the cowards that hide during the battle, and only come out at the end to shoot the survivors. Don't ignore the critics. Some of them are the people genuinely trying to love what you create, and their symbiotic relationship is important. I can't tell you when to do which, but you should do them both, and listen to your heart, it will tell you when.
Love
Love is everywhere. Love is the first and final force that propels everything in this clockwork universe. That may sound crazy, but it's my belief. Do with it what you want.
What i will say about love
Love is real. And our acts of love reveal more about us than any other encounter with life. Love does not dry up. Love does not run out. Love will be there, inside you, whenever you need it. Love can sometimes be very angry, and love can sometimes be very weak and weepy. But Love is not a limited resource.
Take a moment, no matter the cost, and think to yourself, how could i love this person? That's how you do it. It's that simple. The situations we find ourselves in are never that simple, but the act of loving is just that. It's different when someone has a knife to your throat, or a letter you wrote wadded up in their clenched fist, or their back turned to you and their headphones on. It's different in every moment, but it's also the same.
No one can infinitely defy your love for them. No one can infinitely deny they want to be loved. And you can't refuse love forever either. We can all get along, and i mean that genuinely, and realistically, and practically. It's okay to want to be loved by everyone, to be connected to everyone. Because, i believe, we all are connected, and i think that's not just plausible, it's honorable. I think being loved and wanting to love in return is a wonderful part of being human.
God
I am a Christian. I never fit into the church. I never felt like i was rejected, judged or outside of it. I just grew up in a world of faithful people that didn't connect with me on any real or personal level. It wasn't until i found myself at a conservative religious college in the Ozarks that i found other people that were my true companions and also carried my same faith. Even then i disagreed with the rule-makers and thought-leaders that taught us. I never fit into the church. But i consider myself a part of it. Because i want to be within the crowd that needs people to be thinking, challenging, and honestly responding. I believe in the good that can come from this group, this administration, this religion.
As of right now i'm going to make a decision. As best i can tell i no longer belong exclusively to the Church of Christ. I would say, after reading some words and thinking a lot, that i am a 'Universalist.' And even that can be a misleading definition (i've heard it defined more than once, differently, so this is really just a guess). I don't believe in Hell. I believe God is Love, and that Love can be known and understood through other religions not exclusively Christian. But, as the Wizard once said it to me, "I still believe that God came down here two thousand years ago and scared the crap out of some fishermen." I believe that a lot of theological and philosophical argument is defined by the scaffolding of logic we each build around our own thoughts and experiences. I don't think God, Life, or Ethics can really be codified or understood through any set of non-specific, general application type rules, they are the like the 'thing in itself.' I think it all can be clear only in the moment, when the still whisper of what your heart tells you is the right thing to do. And in that regard i believe what Superman said, "There is a clear right and wrong in the Universe. And the distinction isn't that hard to make." [I guess i'm still a little Chaotic/Neutral in my demeanor, but i'm Neutral/Good in my nature]
I'm an idealist. I'm easily defeated in debate about this. But i'm not concerned with proving anything. I will, however, shut up, if there's no point in telling you what i believe. Because you can waste a lot of time trying to speak to someone that is only waiting to argue with you. And you can loose a lot of ground trying to defend your faith when the person in your face only wants to be right.
What i believe, about God
God is Love. Love is something we all know. It can devastate us. It can transform us. It can leave us broken. It can be the only thing that puts the strength in our bodies to take one more step. Love is amazing, love is wonderful, love is what can save us all.
Religion is not without it's flaw, and the Bible is not imperfect. If you want to know how i feel about a lot of things, i'll quote that book. If you want examples of what i think is wrong with a lot of the people and the ideas of the church, i'll also quote that book. The Church, i would guess, is only real if the people that belong to it are friends, honestly and truly. And Religion is only of value when it's giving a place of safety and rest to lives weighed down with oppressive questions or emotional needs. Religion is men and women, faith is men and women, love is divine.
I'm limited in my understanding of other religions. I know every order has it's intellectuals. I know there's a good, solid pitch for any group that believes anything. For me the story of Christ is still most resonant, but i recognize this could be the pre-programming of a conservative childhood. There are things about the Church i've had to reject, because my heart told me they were wrong. And in the end, the amount of things the Church taught me that i still carry and believe far outweigh the number of things i had to deny.
Heaven is a direction, not a place. When you turn your back on the things that cause suffering in yourself or others, you turn your back on sin. When you face the direction of caring about other people, and doing for them first, you're headed in the right direction. Heaven is a direction, and it's the act of loving, forgiving, being with people, and being yourself.
Dreams
Back at the turn of the millennium i decided to quit. I was done with my high-hopes of changing the world. This place, this un-fiction i'd found, was doing quite well. It was such an easy reality to sit and read a book in. Somewhere between then and now, however, i decided i wanted to save this world from itself. I came to the conclusion that a better tomorrow was worth the effort. Then that mantra became an obsession.
I don't know when i decided that the things i wanted to do with my pithy hobbies and unfinished stories were as epic as politics and environmentalism. I don't know when i really started to wake up to my view of women, homosexuals, or other minorities, but by now i'm an advocate for change, and it's something that makes me angry when addressed improperly, ignored, or outright violated. And suddenly here i am, a timid voice for equality, understanding, and ...world peace, i guess.
When you ask me the right questions, and you have to turn off the car and wait to go into the grocery store because i won't shut up, you'll hear me talk about all the things that stories do for us. Pictures, books, and RPGs are all manifestations of the story. And the story is an amazing way of stepping quickly through life, and other lives, and absorbing more beauty than you could from the couch (all while sitting on the couch).
My biggest dream was a game i was running for my friends. And i only just recently realized that Trouble was right when he told me what it was really about. I won't speak of it here. Just know that i've figured it out, and he was right, and it's a dangerous, wonderful, sad, miraculous thing. And i might never be able to go back to it.
What i've got left is sickly and hard to hold. I've got a dozen little ideas that might make it into words and pictures if enough magic can be conjured over another dinner at Dennys on 4th ave. Like i said, i need an audience, and as i look at it now there's nobody left that i think really, really wants to read and play and share the games i'm writing. But now we're back to just crying for help.
Dreams.
Your life is a story. Your dreams are the plot. Find something wonderful, something that will never become a science to you, something that will never become a job, or a chore, or a routine. Find something that cannot loose it's shimmering amazement. Find that something that you ponder on, and can't stop talking about, even in the parking lot when your friend just wants to go into the grocery store and get food. Find something you cherish, and then start collecting it, re-creating it, and learning from it.
Dreams will make your speech smooth and captivating when you talk about them. Dreams will make your little moments, alone, worth recording. Dreams will illustrate your lifes story. Dreams are good.
I've known Swordsmen, Sculptors, Designers, Engineers, Falconers, Programmers, Mothers, Teachers, Writers, Hunters, Gentlemen, Ravers, Drivers, Gamers, Poets, Musicians, Geniuses, Doctors, Baristas, Bartenders, Travelers, and Adventurers. To each there was a thing in their life that gave them bliss. Find your bliss. Where your hopes can meet the world's needs you'll find your dream. There are ways to make money. But it's just money, you'll make more. Dreams give you a currency you can't trade for labor or hours on the clock.
Dreams teach us. Dreams motivate us. Dreams are good.
Final Thoughts
I can't really say all the things i've been trying to say for three years. I wanted to write about my friends more. I totally quit being able to deliver on that "song lyrics + Hyperlinks" themed series of entries (who knew you could run out of internet?) and i wish i'd given more attention to the music i like. But it's over now, so i'm just going to cop out with a big fat quote, and steal the coolness of Robert Bly:
Things to Think
Think in ways you've never thought before.
If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message
Larger than anything you've ever heard,
Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats.
Think that someone may bring a bear to your door,
Maybe wounded and deranged; or think that a moose
Has risen out of the lake, and he's carrying on his antlers
A child of your own whom you've never seen.
When someone knocks on the door,
Think that he's about
To give you something large: tell you you're forgiven,
Or that it's not necessary to work all the time,
Or that it's been decided that if you lie down no one will die.
In the three years that i've tried blogging this last year is the reason why i've decided to quit. I think i had some stuff at the start that was pretty much fun and/or useless. And i think i had a few entries in the second year of it all that really reached out, and said some stuff. Once i'd settled into the routine of writing and found people who would read it i found a bit of courage to open up. Maybe in there somewhere you can find an entry or two that is something which truly shares and is capable of settling into the heart. But in the last year i've lost a lot of faith, lost a lot of direction, and just given up more than anything else. The entries i've written in the last year are pretty much all friends locked, and most of those for specific, tinier groups. I think it was mostly stuff i needed to say to myself, and i didn't realize it.
The last year of this blog has been weak jokes, top five lists, and a whole lot of really depressing words speared into a handful of people. I'm not going to let that keep going. It's melodramatic and disconcerting. It's self-centered. It's not something people want to read, and something people shouldn't have to avoid.
So if there's any way for me to really say anything it's only going to happen after a whole lot of changes to who i am. Right now i'm just too sad and crazy and confused to really write anything people need to be reading. And that's not sharing, it's a cry for help. And the last thing i need right now is people helping. I need to help myself. A process like this can and will take some time. Solitude does not come over a weekend. It's a decided alteration to your trajectory in life, and it only has it's affects when you can't recognize the landscape any longer. Journeys like this take time, and i've already been silent on this site for a couple of months. No one has been upset so far. And that's probably for the better.
Where I'd Like to Leave You
So, if you are still reading this blog, i'd like to say some things before i ramble on. There's a lot i'd like to say, really, but i'm going to do my best to keep from barfing up another novella length entry if i can (yeah, right). The only real way for me to address the weights on my heart with any brevity requires my topics to be familiar and practiced. Since 1999 i've kept a book with me almost everywhere i go. I call it the book of chaos, in reference to my friends in the Chaos Engine and the nature of Faith in Chaos that i've practiced for years. It's a book about my religion, a summary of the droves of fantasy and s-f worlds i've conjured and inhabited, and it's a record of my philosophies. In specific are the New Years Reviews. Sometime in the first week of each year i write a page dedicated to the last year, in retrospect, and reverence. One ninth of that page is a panel where i write short thoughts about seven words that resonate with me.
I'm going to do that now, not in any honest capacity, because it would only be more melodramatic drivel; this is an attempt to remember what those words mean to me when i am not waiting for the venom to purge. I'm not going to say what i've written in them for last year, 2010, (it's pretty grim) and i'm not going to say what i'm feeling now, three months into 2011. Instead, i'm going to skip the quest toward self-realization, and just say what my heart would remind me on the best of days.
Because there are three versions of me you'll meet. The first is the part of me that is still setting out, still seeking to ask the questions unanswered. The second is the me that's in the thick of it, dealing with the harder aspects of believing what you know is true, and coping with everything you didn't realize the truth would cost you. And the last version is what we all become, eventually; the self that has all the explanations, finally, and is filled with the wonder and love for every step along the path that got them there. We change back and forth between these people, the one who asks, the one who is shocked to learn, and the one that is content with the revelations. And right now i'm mostly in the thick of it, but when it's quiet, and the clouds have covered the sky, and i've been through missing all the people and forgiven myself for all the foolishness from the trek to here, where it's finally peaceful...That's when i remember all the things i already knew.
Friends
This is the hardest thing for me to speak about. There is bitterness and anger and hurt and so, so much fear in me when i hear that word now. But if you asked me what makes me smile the most, it would be looking back on the memories of all the magnificent people that have come through my life. There is still some part of me that hates and refuses to believe that friendship is designed for a passing thing. But if that is true, and friendship only exists as long as the patterns that govern us allow, then i will learn to be okay with that. I will not let it cheapen any of the gifts i've been given by friends i wanted to keep. Because i've wanted to keep them all.
I used to classify my friends as present, away, or gone for good (i considered the latter 'lost'). I'm not sure about that, now. I've heard it said that you have friends for "a reason, a season, or an age." I'm also not sure about that, now, either. It seems everyone you love eventually passes into an afterthought. It seems everyone you take for granted disappears at some point. No character is in one comic their whole career. They go off, into their own title, or a mini-series, or join a new team. I guess i've got to be okay with that.
I spent the last decade preaching a promise of everlasting friendship. I told people closest to me, that, if we just tried, if we were honest and admitted that we wanted to be around each other, we could be. Togetherness was only a choice, and life is nothing but choices. That's one of the things i've lost faith in. I'm not sure any friendship can last an age, even with the explicit participation of everyone involved. It hurts like hell to admit that. But ignoring what life has put me through would be even more dangerous. My questions now are about the nature of friendship as it goes throughout life. I need to figure out why it hurts to believe in friends that are there, always, and not just in passing. And what to do about the people i care about so much, but can't seem to keep them close.
What i will say about friendship
No matter how much i miss you, i'll always be smiling when i think of you. No matter how much i wish you would come with me, or just give me a reason to stay, or, above all else, actually be there when i'm most hurting, i won't fail you by giving up myself, or harboring any spite. And i won't betray you any longer by assuming there can be any difference between the person who is at my side all the while, and the loved one that flickers in and out of my life in once-a-year visits. Eventually everyone becomes a cameo in anyone else's life.
Some friends are stars, by which you set your course every night, and others are like comets, illuminating the sky when it's their time and then vanishing for a great while. To both you tie expectations, when you will see them next, and what they can give you. But tethering a value to that presence is dangerous. Value first and only the moments you've been given, because if you have at least one good friend in life, for any stretch of seconds, you've got more than your fair share. And don't be afraid of the starless nights, because they're bound to happen.
Romance
It's strange that this is the second word in this order, because the only other topic this hard to talk about is Romance. And why shouldn't it be? Romance and Friendship are trite ways to delineate between two types of Love.
This last year revealed a horrible part of me. Underneath all the layers of self-conceived defenses and rationalizations there exists what i really am. Shamefully, stereotypically, i'm quite sad and alone. Some conversations and introductions have finally revealed this to me, and admitting it has been no small thing. It's such a disgusting flaw to me, to be so wounded out of petty need for the attraction and affirmation of a girl. It's even worse when i come back, time and again, to the many traps i've laid out for myself, designed to snare any attempt at just going out and finding another person to be with. I've gotten to know myself well enough to see that i'm not ever going to get over certain things about life, and how i want to live it, and how that makes romance a short fuze on a very destructive weapon. You'd think that would kill any desire or need for the thing, right?
Well, i'm finally unable to deny it. It's not true, i do wish for romance. As my good friend the Wizard said, "It's obviously something that's causing you pain." Well, maybe it's that simple after all. Although sometimes i fear i've intertwined a desire for companionship with the misery of being lonely. Whatever the explanation, i'm unhappy about who i fall in love with, and how i can't get out of it. Another friend told me that "if it can happen once it can happen again." And i realized when he said it that such sentiment is not a comfort any longer. It's received more like a threat for me. "You mean i'm going to go through this hell again?" i thought.
But what it is for me, and what it's done to me, doesn't define it as a whole. And now that i'm a little closer to stillness i can remember all the other shades of it, even the wonderful colors it showed to me so long ago, before it was a burden, back when it was a pair of wings...
What i would tell you about romance
It's never the same. And you won't find it by looking. Romance is like the weather, all the patterns it displays can't promise the next bright day or the next terrible catastrophe. We all see, for the most part, what's coming, but there's nowhere on the planet we can go where things will be wholly safe. No matter what kind of place you make for yourself, you're going to deal with darkness and cold as much as you deal with brightness and warmth. Romance can destroy irrationally. Romance can be the only thing that keeps you alive. And if you're beautifully vain, it can be ignored entirely.
Every other relationship i've observed--my parents, my cousins, my friends--none have taught me what to expect. It's all just another story in a world that's full of the unexpected. Romance is horrible. Romance is the only true happiness. Romance is boring. Romance is breathtaking. Romance is easy. Romance is miserable work. Romance is different for each pairing between people that find it. Sometimes ephemeral. Sometimes the definition of a lifetime. Romance is as predictable and varied as every person you'll ever meet.
Life
Life is beautiful. We are defined as much by our suffering as we are by our scrapbooks. We are tethered to our hopes and fears with equal length and restraint. We are cowardly, and that's what makes every hero so real, and so worth uplifting. We are violent, but we can create; "Our ability to create makes us like God, our choice to do so makes us different from everyone else."
Some days my life seems so long and so wretched, as the look back keeps unearthing more miserable detail. Some days my life is too short, and all the moments i've wasted, that i just scattered to nothing with a lazy exhale, are the greatest of my sins. Other days my life can't seem to escape the limits of when i punched the clock. And other days my life blurs between the hours, the exhilaration from all the awesomeness keeping my eyes open as my exhausted body cries out for sleep.
Five years ago i was the man i wanted to be, but still held back, still with bigger plans to hatch. Last December i admitted that i will never be who i want to be; not without giving up on wants or hopes tied permanently to things outside my control. As of tonight, i don't know what to do next. I don't have a home any more, i don't have a destination, and i don't have a dream left for a banner to march under. I'm not self-reliant, but i'm not miserable. I'm not healthy at all, but i'm not dieing (any more than the rest of us, i suppose). I'm stuck in an inexplicable balance, giving me the calm to choose what happens next, just like all the choices i made to this point.
What i will say about life
Life is beautiful. Don't live each day like it's your last, our you leave no value in tomorrow. Don't forget the weight of the past, regret is a candle burning in the window. Never stop running. Don't walk toward what you want. Run.
There's nothing wrong with wasting your time determining what you want to do with your time. But don't get angry when you run out of time. Don't force art, let it come to you. And don't wait for epiphanies, seek what you want to know, even when you don't want to know it. Ask. Seek. Knock. The absolute worst response you'll ever have to deal with is "I don't know." And that's not so bad at all.
Beauty
The field of aesthetics is such a broad and wonderful range of opinions that it often becomes a great battleground. I've been obsessed with more than one type of beauty in my life, and not just the subjects of traditional arts and humanities. I've had my hobbies as well. I'll say it here: i wish i could really smoke a pipe, as in 'well.' All i ever seem to do is singe the brier and spit into the bowl, spoiling the embers. Of all my comics i've collected only one box is filled with crap i'd sell. And of all the stories i've written i refuse to forget even one of them. Some part of me knows what the next few blank pages are going to say.
I fell in love with drawing when i was a boy. I fell in love with writing when i was a young man. I fell in love with story-gaming when i was an adult. And at the end of it all i keep a secret quote from one of my old friends, the poet and prophet, Ithamar Conkey, "It seems the act of art is secondary for you, to the act of creating."
Maybe he was right. Every few days i pause, look back at all the little notes, books, stickers, and piles of crap i've accumulated for the production of what's been thought of next. And i wonder, am i doing this for the end, or the beginning?
I know now, sadly, that i need an audience, of at least one. Doing anything for myself feels empty, and dies before the pen can scratch paper. If i am going to keep doing anything like this, i need there to be someone else who genuinely cares about it, someone outside of me. Discovering that person is a dangerous request, however, and i'm still to scared to ask it. I'm still afraid i'll find out that nobody ever really cared about any of the things i thought or believed. But if i were to speak as someone that has a reason to speak, i would say that Art is symbiotic, and there's a reason for that.
What i believe about beauty
Listen to me now: It's okay to like something someone else likes, even if they introduced it to you. It's okay to hate something someone else likes, even if they introduced it to you.
When something is presented to you, try to like it. Don't assume, don't write it off, don't give up on it until it's failed you. Don't be cynical. I would never have gotten through Trigun if i didn't have a crush on a girl that loved it. And that could have been a terrible mistake. I never would have read The Elric Saga if i hadn't been loaned the novels by a highly respected friend, long before my personal opinions and goals became so set against such fiction. But without that foundation in my younger days i'd have no respect for my enemy, and i'd be an even bigger fool.
Art, of any kind, is defined to me by this (Thanks, Crow!): the symbiotic relationships between someone creating and someone loving the creation. That relationship has no rules, and no keeper. Do not disrespect someone by disliking their adoration of anything.
Art, by my definition, can only be judged in one way, by looking at the intentions of the person creating it. There is no good or bad. There is no classic or cannon. There is no natural or educated. Even the most poorly written crap can change a persons life from miserable to wonderful. Even the dumbest songs can play two people into a romance that finds them both forever fulfilled. The only thing that can be condemned in art is the intentions of the creator, and even then it can often produce, quite surprisingly, wonderful things. If someone is trying to hurt you with design, expression, or any other thing, it's hurtful, and you have the right to respond. But telling a hate-monger their prose is derivative is missing the fucking point something fierce. And shutting down a would-be hero for failing to recognize their mistakes from an academic point of view is a sad endeavor. Spend as much time as you want training, practicing, and honing your skills. Say whatever you want about raw talent verses time-worn development. But don't ever loose touch with the passion for what you do, or the message you're trying to convey. No amount of critical acclaim makes up for having a point, and no amount of talent or skill will be remembered if the result is aimless.
If you want beauty, don't think about it. Thinking creates the logical bars that build a prison. Follow the passion of the thing. Learn from the parts that break, not the parts you identified as dysfunctional and never imported into the final product.
Don't listen to critics. Critics are the cowards that hide during the battle, and only come out at the end to shoot the survivors. Don't ignore the critics. Some of them are the people genuinely trying to love what you create, and their symbiotic relationship is important. I can't tell you when to do which, but you should do them both, and listen to your heart, it will tell you when.
Love
Love is everywhere. Love is the first and final force that propels everything in this clockwork universe. That may sound crazy, but it's my belief. Do with it what you want.
What i will say about love
Love is real. And our acts of love reveal more about us than any other encounter with life. Love does not dry up. Love does not run out. Love will be there, inside you, whenever you need it. Love can sometimes be very angry, and love can sometimes be very weak and weepy. But Love is not a limited resource.
Take a moment, no matter the cost, and think to yourself, how could i love this person? That's how you do it. It's that simple. The situations we find ourselves in are never that simple, but the act of loving is just that. It's different when someone has a knife to your throat, or a letter you wrote wadded up in their clenched fist, or their back turned to you and their headphones on. It's different in every moment, but it's also the same.
No one can infinitely defy your love for them. No one can infinitely deny they want to be loved. And you can't refuse love forever either. We can all get along, and i mean that genuinely, and realistically, and practically. It's okay to want to be loved by everyone, to be connected to everyone. Because, i believe, we all are connected, and i think that's not just plausible, it's honorable. I think being loved and wanting to love in return is a wonderful part of being human.
God
I am a Christian. I never fit into the church. I never felt like i was rejected, judged or outside of it. I just grew up in a world of faithful people that didn't connect with me on any real or personal level. It wasn't until i found myself at a conservative religious college in the Ozarks that i found other people that were my true companions and also carried my same faith. Even then i disagreed with the rule-makers and thought-leaders that taught us. I never fit into the church. But i consider myself a part of it. Because i want to be within the crowd that needs people to be thinking, challenging, and honestly responding. I believe in the good that can come from this group, this administration, this religion.
As of right now i'm going to make a decision. As best i can tell i no longer belong exclusively to the Church of Christ. I would say, after reading some words and thinking a lot, that i am a 'Universalist.' And even that can be a misleading definition (i've heard it defined more than once, differently, so this is really just a guess). I don't believe in Hell. I believe God is Love, and that Love can be known and understood through other religions not exclusively Christian. But, as the Wizard once said it to me, "I still believe that God came down here two thousand years ago and scared the crap out of some fishermen." I believe that a lot of theological and philosophical argument is defined by the scaffolding of logic we each build around our own thoughts and experiences. I don't think God, Life, or Ethics can really be codified or understood through any set of non-specific, general application type rules, they are the like the 'thing in itself.' I think it all can be clear only in the moment, when the still whisper of what your heart tells you is the right thing to do. And in that regard i believe what Superman said, "There is a clear right and wrong in the Universe. And the distinction isn't that hard to make." [I guess i'm still a little Chaotic/Neutral in my demeanor, but i'm Neutral/Good in my nature]
I'm an idealist. I'm easily defeated in debate about this. But i'm not concerned with proving anything. I will, however, shut up, if there's no point in telling you what i believe. Because you can waste a lot of time trying to speak to someone that is only waiting to argue with you. And you can loose a lot of ground trying to defend your faith when the person in your face only wants to be right.
What i believe, about God
God is Love. Love is something we all know. It can devastate us. It can transform us. It can leave us broken. It can be the only thing that puts the strength in our bodies to take one more step. Love is amazing, love is wonderful, love is what can save us all.
Religion is not without it's flaw, and the Bible is not imperfect. If you want to know how i feel about a lot of things, i'll quote that book. If you want examples of what i think is wrong with a lot of the people and the ideas of the church, i'll also quote that book. The Church, i would guess, is only real if the people that belong to it are friends, honestly and truly. And Religion is only of value when it's giving a place of safety and rest to lives weighed down with oppressive questions or emotional needs. Religion is men and women, faith is men and women, love is divine.
I'm limited in my understanding of other religions. I know every order has it's intellectuals. I know there's a good, solid pitch for any group that believes anything. For me the story of Christ is still most resonant, but i recognize this could be the pre-programming of a conservative childhood. There are things about the Church i've had to reject, because my heart told me they were wrong. And in the end, the amount of things the Church taught me that i still carry and believe far outweigh the number of things i had to deny.
Heaven is a direction, not a place. When you turn your back on the things that cause suffering in yourself or others, you turn your back on sin. When you face the direction of caring about other people, and doing for them first, you're headed in the right direction. Heaven is a direction, and it's the act of loving, forgiving, being with people, and being yourself.
Dreams
Back at the turn of the millennium i decided to quit. I was done with my high-hopes of changing the world. This place, this un-fiction i'd found, was doing quite well. It was such an easy reality to sit and read a book in. Somewhere between then and now, however, i decided i wanted to save this world from itself. I came to the conclusion that a better tomorrow was worth the effort. Then that mantra became an obsession.
I don't know when i decided that the things i wanted to do with my pithy hobbies and unfinished stories were as epic as politics and environmentalism. I don't know when i really started to wake up to my view of women, homosexuals, or other minorities, but by now i'm an advocate for change, and it's something that makes me angry when addressed improperly, ignored, or outright violated. And suddenly here i am, a timid voice for equality, understanding, and ...world peace, i guess.
When you ask me the right questions, and you have to turn off the car and wait to go into the grocery store because i won't shut up, you'll hear me talk about all the things that stories do for us. Pictures, books, and RPGs are all manifestations of the story. And the story is an amazing way of stepping quickly through life, and other lives, and absorbing more beauty than you could from the couch (all while sitting on the couch).
My biggest dream was a game i was running for my friends. And i only just recently realized that Trouble was right when he told me what it was really about. I won't speak of it here. Just know that i've figured it out, and he was right, and it's a dangerous, wonderful, sad, miraculous thing. And i might never be able to go back to it.
What i've got left is sickly and hard to hold. I've got a dozen little ideas that might make it into words and pictures if enough magic can be conjured over another dinner at Dennys on 4th ave. Like i said, i need an audience, and as i look at it now there's nobody left that i think really, really wants to read and play and share the games i'm writing. But now we're back to just crying for help.
Dreams.
Your life is a story. Your dreams are the plot. Find something wonderful, something that will never become a science to you, something that will never become a job, or a chore, or a routine. Find something that cannot loose it's shimmering amazement. Find that something that you ponder on, and can't stop talking about, even in the parking lot when your friend just wants to go into the grocery store and get food. Find something you cherish, and then start collecting it, re-creating it, and learning from it.
Dreams will make your speech smooth and captivating when you talk about them. Dreams will make your little moments, alone, worth recording. Dreams will illustrate your lifes story. Dreams are good.
I've known Swordsmen, Sculptors, Designers, Engineers, Falconers, Programmers, Mothers, Teachers, Writers, Hunters, Gentlemen, Ravers, Drivers, Gamers, Poets, Musicians, Geniuses, Doctors, Baristas, Bartenders, Travelers, and Adventurers. To each there was a thing in their life that gave them bliss. Find your bliss. Where your hopes can meet the world's needs you'll find your dream. There are ways to make money. But it's just money, you'll make more. Dreams give you a currency you can't trade for labor or hours on the clock.
Dreams teach us. Dreams motivate us. Dreams are good.
Final Thoughts
I can't really say all the things i've been trying to say for three years. I wanted to write about my friends more. I totally quit being able to deliver on that "song lyrics + Hyperlinks" themed series of entries (who knew you could run out of internet?) and i wish i'd given more attention to the music i like. But it's over now, so i'm just going to cop out with a big fat quote, and steal the coolness of Robert Bly:
Things to Think
Think in ways you've never thought before.
If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message
Larger than anything you've ever heard,
Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats.
Think that someone may bring a bear to your door,
Maybe wounded and deranged; or think that a moose
Has risen out of the lake, and he's carrying on his antlers
A child of your own whom you've never seen.
When someone knocks on the door,
Think that he's about
To give you something large: tell you you're forgiven,
Or that it's not necessary to work all the time,
Or that it's been decided that if you lie down no one will die.