Rubber chickens are metaphors
I get caught sometimes in the beauty of the world. It just gleefully
hammers on the window of my basement suite until I let it in or go out to
join it. Wide blue eyes.
My mind just arcs to the negative.
I’m the original “Yeah but”
How are you Duncan? Good so far.
How are you Duncan? Not too bad.
That was a great movie because I only found a small number of flaws with
it. My own art was crippled after my critical eye exceeded my talent.
Probably my relationships as well. Even this diatribe about what’s wrong
with ME is a part of it.
I caught up with an old friend today. I’ve officially been back in town
for a year. This friend, Lisa, was the last person I wanted to run into.
What I mean is, there were a number of people that I wanted to run into that
after having been gone for five years, I no longer have phone numbers,
addresses, email addresses or even acquaintances in common anymore to track
them down. I had to depend on Vancouver to deliver them up.
Lisa was the last one. It only took a year but it happened. My re
insertion into life here is now complete. I can stay or go but I’m
officially back.
The day was transcendent and one that I think only the west coast of North
America could deliver. Sunny coastal lazy wandering. Concepts only needing
nudges from half sentences to get across to the other brain. Years of stuff
to catch up on but not really touching on any of it. Just hanging out with
a beautiful fantastic west coast model actress singer songwriter on a Sunday
that goes on forever and ever in my mind. The hour and a bit I spent with
her today is a coin I’ll turn over and over in my brain and look at in the
future when I’m in solitary confinement. Along with other times with other
people.
It’s important to do what you feel you should do. It’s important to
follow your heart. It’s important to be courageously stupid. Mostly, I
think, for the reason that when you’re infirm and falling apart as we all
will be if we survive to an oldish age, remembering when you were young will
be a whole other kind of entertainment. It’ll be like eating or drinking.
Sitting on the porch and thinking in the hot sun about the place where you
went that time. Swirling the brandy around in your glass and looking out of
the apartment window at the rain and thinking of another rainy afternoon
long past.
That’s why you need to keep going.
hammers on the window of my basement suite until I let it in or go out to
join it. Wide blue eyes.
My mind just arcs to the negative.
I’m the original “Yeah but”
How are you Duncan? Good so far.
How are you Duncan? Not too bad.
That was a great movie because I only found a small number of flaws with
it. My own art was crippled after my critical eye exceeded my talent.
Probably my relationships as well. Even this diatribe about what’s wrong
with ME is a part of it.
I caught up with an old friend today. I’ve officially been back in town
for a year. This friend, Lisa, was the last person I wanted to run into.
What I mean is, there were a number of people that I wanted to run into that
after having been gone for five years, I no longer have phone numbers,
addresses, email addresses or even acquaintances in common anymore to track
them down. I had to depend on Vancouver to deliver them up.
Lisa was the last one. It only took a year but it happened. My re
insertion into life here is now complete. I can stay or go but I’m
officially back.
The day was transcendent and one that I think only the west coast of North
America could deliver. Sunny coastal lazy wandering. Concepts only needing
nudges from half sentences to get across to the other brain. Years of stuff
to catch up on but not really touching on any of it. Just hanging out with
a beautiful fantastic west coast model actress singer songwriter on a Sunday
that goes on forever and ever in my mind. The hour and a bit I spent with
her today is a coin I’ll turn over and over in my brain and look at in the
future when I’m in solitary confinement. Along with other times with other
people.
It’s important to do what you feel you should do. It’s important to
follow your heart. It’s important to be courageously stupid. Mostly, I
think, for the reason that when you’re infirm and falling apart as we all
will be if we survive to an oldish age, remembering when you were young will
be a whole other kind of entertainment. It’ll be like eating or drinking.
Sitting on the porch and thinking in the hot sun about the place where you
went that time. Swirling the brandy around in your glass and looking out of
the apartment window at the rain and thinking of another rainy afternoon
long past.
That’s why you need to keep going.