Metaphysical style

The love affair—with the city, as the one with the man is solid—has begun. Plans loosely form to go further north. Have you ever seen days that last twenty hours? Do you know about skumring, the blue hour, the time when you sit and read until your eyes absolutely can’t see another thing? Did it ever occur to you that by not visiting the Arctic Circle, your visionary life might be a little less than realized?

Have I ever made you listen to Handsome Boy Modeling School?
I think I’d remember that name. So no.

It’s a good day…

You know, no one understands most of what you write on your blog.
I’m not here for them.

Comments have vanished here. To those of you that have previously left them, I say this sincerely: it’s nothing personal.

A friend came to dinner last week. “I tried to leave a note on your blog…” He was here in person though. It was infinitely more important than any public, textual evidence of our relationship. Some conversations—I’d argue most—are meant to remain private.

Another friend sleeps on our floor this week. Back from a skydiving trip in California (where he met fellow jumper Jack Osbourne), he’s in town for a scuba instructor certification course. We share pizzas, talk of extreme living, love of cats, and silence. He is a foot and a half taller than me and one of my favorite people.

It’s a good day…

People don’t tend to talk openly enough about how they pay the bills, and I am among the guilty in this case. How do you balance ideals and necessities?

Thrift is underrated. There is nothing wrong with a lunch of cold snap peas and bread and butter. Throw in some quinoa salad or beans, and your afternoon energy is made.

It took five months, but it happened. My bike met the curb and decided it was not to be. Getting back on the next day is always the hardest part, and I am not the best in these situations. The older I get, the less I accept being thrown off. It’s so much easier to walk away (yes, it is). But then, much of my professional life is currently based on rejection. I go to Buddhist meditation lectures and believe in karma. It doesn’t always work, but everyone had to believe in something.