Per request-

Mia: Don’t you hate that?
Vincent: What?
Mia: Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it’s necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?
Vincent: I don’t know. That’s a good question.
Mia: That’s when you know you’ve found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.

That, my dears, was my weekend.  But you’re going to have to wait to hear that tale.

With that, the sound begins again.

I know that it has been awhile since I’ve done this.  So much has been going on.  But don’t fret.

I have not stopped writing- I just changed mediums for awhile.

I have not stopped dating.

I have not stopped smiling.

(Non sequitor.)

I have not died.

(Well, that part is only partially true.)

I still exist.

I guess part of what happened is, as generic as it may sound…

life.

I was walking through the art supply store yesterday waiting for my friend to be free to cut me some canvas.  I can’t remember the last time I painted.  I was inspired and felt it was time.

My weekend had been a blur.  A punch drunk fury of hours come and gone like a gust of wind.  Perhaps the rain this week washed away more than just a few dirty streets.

I think I know what I’m going to paint.

My best had to help a customer.  I found myself lost in shelves lined with magic.  I called the one person who I knew was a combination of both worlds.

“Grandma what are you doing home?  You’re supposed to be in Dwight enjoying your childhood memories.”

“Next weekend.”

“I want to have sand in my paint but I forgot what I need for that…”

“To thicken it up you need a medium.  Or you can just use oils because its thicker.”

You see, and this should not come as much of a surprise, but my grandmother… is an artist.

“Grandma I had… All I want to do right now is paint.  I want to hike and paint and watch sunrises and sunsets over the city and paint for awhile.  It’s been too long.  I have a lot on my mind.”

“I think thats wonderful.  Do you still have those brushes your aunt and I bought you years ago?”

“I do.  I’m going to have to dig them out.  I’m buying a couple of artist pallates.  I want to go to the beach and paint so I want something that if I lose I won’t be super upset about losing.”

“Buy a plastic one or get paper ones for that.  Best bet would be plastic. It’d be easy to clean.”

“Grandma, tell me about how it was to date in your time  What was that like for you.”

“I don’t talk about that.  I did date before your grandpa but I’m a very private person.”

Oh what she doesn’t know…

We walked around and talked about life.

“Why as a society are we brought up and told “Be honest. Be yourself.  Be open.” but then when you actually are, people crucify you for it… because there’s something about them that they can’t fully express and they’re envious… because you are the colorful painting and they are stuck in black and white.”

“Because people are hypocrites!” She said with a laugh.

I guess that’s part of why I took a pause.  My scrawlings, despite being vague and relatively ananomous nature have been both uplifting and the knife of the final move of my demise.  Despite my openness about this blog before I ever even enter into anything, men seem to become entransed by the words and then… when the plot really thickens and the soufle is in the oven… well, they fall short.

“Choose your words wisely.  They make or break you.”

I am not broken anymore.

I may not be that black and white picture all of the time but…

Life has been busy.  I have eased into a semi normal lifestyle believe it or not.  I have slept some wonderful nights and I have also tossed and turned with dreams of a ghost.

But those tales shall come later.

Know that I have been to hell and beyond and… it’s good to be back.  We have a lot of catching up to do my friends.  And thank you for the messages telling  me to get back to this.

More later.  But for now?  I have to get dressed.  Someone got a normal 9-5 office job downtown.  Mind boggling huh?

Cheers,

j.

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4.

I oftentimes find myself having both the best and worst timing imaginable.  Why it seems to happen, I’m unsure.  But I wouldn’t give it up any of it.

All those moments…

the rise and fall of passion and levity to see-you-laters and goodbyes…

Life is about the experiences.

They’re about discovery.

What’s real.

And what’s going to make you more real…

however surreal and dreamlike they may be.

I’m so grateful I found you.

You.

You.

Me.

You

(and?)

Me.

If only for a moment.

If only for this moment.

however surreal and dreamlike it may be.

De-preciation

A text around 7pm on Valentines Day…

“Go to your front door please.”

I put some jeans on.  Wiped the tears from my eyes.  I could barely breathe.  It had been a day of harsh reflections.  This Valentines Day, as cheesy as it sounds, I was going to be my own Valentine.

Sitting in the corner were a few things: the newest issue of The Walking Dead, Batman #686, a sticker, and a heart shaped locket.

“Where are you?” I texted back.

“I thought I was ready to see you.  Waited for a bit for someone to open the door.  But then lost my confidence.”

It’s been a month.  And time does not seem to heal these wounds for so much bittnerness hath been created.

Against all other judgement.  Against my own judgement.  I started to fall deeper into an abyss.

A man who once showed so much strength and conviction to get through the days that it kept me moving… was a shadow now.  And for a craftsman of light such as I, it stung that much more.

He didn’t understand.

Months and months of him having little to no time for me.  I found myself losing myself.  Many nights, I cried myself to sleep wondering why this man who claimed that he loved me, and showered me with matierial affection, failed miserably where it counted most.  I stopped seeing friends as often.  Part responsibility.  Part sacrifice for him.

But then it became petty.

He was working so hard for that picket fence he said.   Toiling away for that bottom dollar.

Until the day where my best friend came back into town.  He’d been overseas for 6 months.  I wanted this boy to come meet him.  I wanted to have an evening out with 2 of my best boys.

I was thrown more bitterness.

I went through it anyway… the way I always knew how but didn’t always show I knew better.

I spoke to friends.

I went out.

I went to work.

I saved my money.

I cut back on the excess.

I cut back on everything.

I needed the time for myself.

To reflect and appreciate what mattered most.

“I’m raising my standards with people each time they piss me off… and they’re dropping like flies more and more.  I used to have 60 phone numbers in my phone.  It was all the people I’ve met in my life.  I now have 12.  So consider yourself lucky.  You’ve outlasted some amazing people.” my friend from a small town in Alaska (the same Sarah Palin is from) told me.

Because life has to go on.

Because you always have to be moving forward.

I stopped waiting around for someone who did not value my time.

I was alive again.

“Where are you?” I texted back.

“I thought I was ready to see you.  Waited for a bit for someone to open the door.  But then lost my confidence.”

Dear the grip,

I feel that you do not appreciate me.  When you truly love someone… this is not the proper way to behave.

I want to thank you for everything that you have done for me.  For everything that you are doing for me with the coorespondence we are still having.

You say you do not have confidence.

You say I hurt you by having… whatever moments that I have.  They are my moments.  They are the moments of the people I share them with.  They do not belong to you.

You choose to not be part of them.

You chose not to want to be here.

These, are… yours.

Free will.

Live the way you want to.

But live while you are living.

Lest you miss out on something wonderful.

Where the road will take us, for that I am uncertain.  I will be forthright and honest… I do not know if we shall walk this road together or if we shall part ways.  Perhaps for a little while.  Perhaps forever.  Perhaps for many lives to come.  For I cannot make promises or guarantees of anything.  That is something I have always been constant in telling you.

I love you.

I love you as a person.

But lovers we shall be?

Perhaps we both know the answers.

I guess time will tell though.

Because life has to go on.

Because you always have to be moving forward.

Free will.

Live the way you want to.

But live while you are living.

Lest you miss out on something wonderful.

[To be continued…]

Cheating/ Mission complete

This is just a small blog to say… Horray!  I met the goal.  NaBloPoMo for the month of August.  And man what a ride it was.

I don’t think that I could have picked a better month to do it either.  The move to LA has been a rollarcoaster of adventure, heartache, passion, debauchery, and of course… lots and lots of business.

Who knew so much could be jam packed into 1 months time?  It really makes you take a step back and think.

I am making more commitments to myself on a daily basis.  Yes, that’s me trying out that other c word.  It’s a biggun.

I am finding that I am becoming more and more dedicated and focused as time goes by.  I am learning where exactly it is where I want to be, where my heart is, where I am headed, what I will or will not put up with.. etcetera etcetera blah blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda.

Love.

“Hate.”

I never really hate anything.  I honestly believe that that word should be abolished.

On that tangent, I also believe that the word love is overused too.

The things and people that I can say I genuinely love, I can count on one hand.  The fact that it’s more than 1 finger leads me to believe I am incredibly blessed, in as blessed as a non religious person can be.

Life is an adventure.  I am learning so much everyday.  I want to learn more.  I crave it.  It will happen.

NaBloPoMo was more than just a month of consistent blogging to me.  It was a dedication and personal commitment to myself.  I was successful. I am successful.  I have the potential to be even more successful in all areas of my life if I only work hard for it.

Is it bad to be your own number 1 fan?  Hell someone has to be right?  Scratch that.  I’m my number -4 fan.  For some reason I’m blessed by 3 beautiful children who rank higher than I could ever imagine…

</cheese>

A lil tony robbins action- pt 1

I was being nostalgic in the wee hours of the morn when I ran across a statement that hit a little too close to home.

You can never take a man away from his one true love.

Too many degrees.  It stings everywhere.

From the narcassist-   When I first entered my marriage, my fiance knew that I had a passion for photography.  As you can tell from the updated stream, it is a part of me.  That part was put on hold however.  When the marriage dissapated, my photography came back and flourished.  I felt a renewed sense of being.  It is my one true love.

To the dater- Foreshadowing, a woman came into view that spoke words of warning.  “She is his one true love.”  I use the term “she” in loose terminology.  Work, lovers, etcetera… the devil lies in the details.  A short time later, sure enough… that was over.  Or, another leaf turned?  I still don’t know for sure.

To friendships- She loved the theatre.  It’s no surprise that she fell in love with New York.  That was probably a given actually.

All commonalities.  All “you should have knowns.”  So why does it still sting?

Because reality reared its ugly face.  La la la life goes on.

There is an aura abound.  We chase these firecracker moments… we oooh and ah at the sparkle and shimmer.  We don’t want to think about the end of the stick.  All we want… is to be forever entransed in that moment.  For the passion and love of it all.

Humans aspire to be something more.  We want fame.  We want this glory.  We want people to notice us.  But so few really show what it is that they love.  The man that does, is either shun or idolized.  Usually one rather than the other, but some fortunates get both.

A friend of mine once said:

I’m a person and not a possession.  The only things that own me are my passions.-Molly Kurtz

Another business friend told me something equally as powerful.  He said, in such simplicity:

Whatever you are, just be proud of it. -Scott Hartsman

There are a few true loves.  But when I look back at my life, at the constants, it’s kind of surprising personally.  What are your constants?  How have they effected the person that you are today?  Personally.  Professionally.  Artistically. Intellectually.  Spiritually.

Even with silly things, you will most likely see a common bond.  I believe that’s where the heart of change is.  It’s self realization.  Find your heart and go with it.  Weather it be work, family, or play.. live a life of passion.  Be passionate about something.  Be passionate about someone.  Its a highly underrated way of life that so many people seem to lose sight of.

Why do you think so many of us starving artists are so happy despite it all?  Because if all we have is that something, it’s still enough yet not enough at the same time.