I can see the future. Or at least hours into it… Regardless, the part of me that still regards Lost as the best show ever, allows myself a girlish, delighted laugh. There is a loophole the space-time continuum. I know what the stars will look like hours before they shine down on me. I see what the evening holds while still in the thick of midday
I can see the future. We all can, really. At least, those of us who find ourselves in the West with our hearts still very much East. With our smart phones and enough data to spare, we soar through time and space.
I see your sunset and the bolts of lightening that strike across the night sky. I can see what you’ll eat for dinner. I thank social media (and a general obsession with instagram-ing everything you eat) for creating a wrinkle in time.
To the skeptics, dreamers, and make believers-alike, social media has inadvertently created what humanity has dreamed about for nearly all of existence, that is, time travel.
So from she who can see into the future….to my dear friends and family who look into the Past.
All my love from the Bay.
My time in California has been characterized by a series of wrong turns. Wrong turns, literally speaking, only. Metaphorically, all turns have been spot on. But yes, literally speaking, I’ve made so many illegal U-turns that I’m surprised I don’t have a mounting pile of tickets. Well, I do have a mounting pile of tickets…but not for illegal U turns. The parking here is beyond me.
I hail to the Golden Coast for all usual reasons, and I face all the typical difficulties one faces when coming to the Bay. In no particular order, I came work…for adventure…for life. I hoped that 3000 miles, reaching a grand finale at a cold, rocky coast would inspire. It did. Traveling renews a sense of life. The world is exciting and ripe for exploration. Humans, regardless of age or race or occupation, are all very much the same. There is a Oneness with the earth that is achieved. It is what inspired poets and song writers. Loneliness has lost its sting. And I am afraid of very little.
To East Coasters, the West Coast serves as some Final Frontier. Two weeks in and I’ve only just begun.
So from the other side of the country….which sometimes feels like the other side of the world…where we’re all just looking for a rent-controlled apartment…and a warm day in August..
Texas in April is perfect. I will never complain about anything again…ever…
I lost my internet access 2 days ago. I was pretty frustrated initially. I had fallen into a good routine of gym–writing—dinner–researching. About 50% of that routine is impossible without internet.
But no complaining…..even though that was a complaint. I would be a failure against my own moral ideals if I didn’t make the most of this.
So I localized my writing to Microsoft Word. And I’ll post more intentionally. I guess there will be no more late night Mad Men via Netflix. I do have a few books to read anyway…
In the absence of WiFi, I practiced some photography this afternoon. Here’s to changing it up (mantra #1)
Vintage, Pt 1.
“Art must be honest,” he told me. I pondered that statement for weeks. Anyone can paint a circle on a canvas, but someone wholly believes in it.
Writing must to be honest.
This is not a statement regarding the truthfulness in facts or stories. This is a statement about truth to one’s self. I’ve spent countless hours researching blogs. I want to know methodology for success. What do people want to read? Food…. humor… weight loss. I can’t write about any of this. I just don’t care enough. It would be weak writing and a disservice to talent. It would be dishonest. And it would extract from writing the very thing I love–the essence of self expression.
In the spirit of all that is honest, a quote:
“In the name of the best within you…do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish, in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach. Check your road and the nature of your battle. The world you desired can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it’s yours.” Rand, Atlas Shrugged
From where I sit,
Also, the edible alphabet: