You should probably know, though I’m not going to be the one to tell you, that I’ve placed you on “the island.” And, no, this is NOT the island that’s deserted and where we have to spend the rest of our lives depending on each other, no doubt spending the first 3 weeks doing it on the beach morning, noon, and night (oh come on, you know that’s the first thing everyone thinks of with this scenario). No, I’m not on this island at all. You are though, along with those who are like you and have been sent there previously. You guys can totally do it on the beach morning, noon, and night should you wish – but I’m pretty sure you (and the others – uh, okay, MOST of the others) don’t swing that way.
For the first few weeks, there will be attempts to test out your carpentry skills and build a raft, and I’ll even have sentencing remorse and send out a lifeboat (or two) to bring you back. It’s usually an attempt late at night, after you’re delirious from something island-like, like fermented coconut milk, and me suffering from a more common intoxication. And because of your lovely allure and sweet, perfect kisses, I can’t help but welcome you back, even if just for a moment. But, I promise you, its short lived; just ask your new island buddies. They know. They’ll tell you that I’m crazy (that’s always your guys’ excuse) and that you’re not alone. They’ll say there are way better fish in the sea (and you’ll think, there damn well better be –we’re surrounded by miles and miles of water!). And finally, they’ll say not to worry, man, you are definitely better off on the island. And, hey, you know what – honestly, you probably are. And while it was fun and exciting, having you there, and not here, is better for me too.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Home
Well its been a long time since I’ve written. I know, I know… it’s rare that I take such a long hiatus, but for a while something somehow managed to squash the urge to purge my thoughts on the screen.
For the most part, things are going really well. Sure, I have my complaints (which will, I'm sure, be unveiled in late night scribbles soon), but who doesn’t? Even in the most comfortable and smoothest of times, one generally has at least one thorn under foot. While my previous entries are not always riddled with sadness, frustration, or anger, I do find myself at my most creative and descriptive when I am holding a passionate pain. I was re-reading past narratives the other night and I was flooded with the memories of how difficult 2007 and 2008 were. Wow. The ups and downs, the confusion, the hopeless frustration, all consumed with such disappointment; the reappearance of a ghost who draped my spirit in bright brassy red; and the anger and bitterness that I rarely have that bubbled to the surface and narrowed my vision of possibility. And yet, again, the words that fill those pages are so much more real and raw than anything I’ve tried to write recently.
But, 2009, so far has been a different story. I’m happy in Seattle today. For the first time in a long time, the wanderlust that has always been so ever-present has subsided for a bit. This is my home, a place that comforts me and calls me when I am away for both long and short periods of time. The deep desire to travel is still there, of course, as it is something that will never leave me, but the urge to move somewhere new has turned its powerful head and is no longer staring me in the face, seducing me. Even the call of the ocean and lure of the sun and sand has quieted for the moment. We’ll see how long it lasts, but right now, it feels really, really good... to be home.
For the most part, things are going really well. Sure, I have my complaints (which will, I'm sure, be unveiled in late night scribbles soon), but who doesn’t? Even in the most comfortable and smoothest of times, one generally has at least one thorn under foot. While my previous entries are not always riddled with sadness, frustration, or anger, I do find myself at my most creative and descriptive when I am holding a passionate pain. I was re-reading past narratives the other night and I was flooded with the memories of how difficult 2007 and 2008 were. Wow. The ups and downs, the confusion, the hopeless frustration, all consumed with such disappointment; the reappearance of a ghost who draped my spirit in bright brassy red; and the anger and bitterness that I rarely have that bubbled to the surface and narrowed my vision of possibility. And yet, again, the words that fill those pages are so much more real and raw than anything I’ve tried to write recently.
But, 2009, so far has been a different story. I’m happy in Seattle today. For the first time in a long time, the wanderlust that has always been so ever-present has subsided for a bit. This is my home, a place that comforts me and calls me when I am away for both long and short periods of time. The deep desire to travel is still there, of course, as it is something that will never leave me, but the urge to move somewhere new has turned its powerful head and is no longer staring me in the face, seducing me. Even the call of the ocean and lure of the sun and sand has quieted for the moment. We’ll see how long it lasts, but right now, it feels really, really good... to be home.
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