Desiderata: observations from the journey

…know the way I feel tonight. Yep. Sometimes even the love of friends and family just isn’t enough and loneliness rears its ugly head. At those times I find it awfully helpful to make something, you know besides misery. Enjoy.

discovery

where could you be?

i had you once,

out of time,

out of space,

out of synch,

now i have only this moment,

temporary refuge from the storm of everyday,

where could you be?

i held you once,

in attraction,

in lust,

in love,

now i hold only these lines,

pull them taut against the force of the wind,

where could you be?

i felt you once,

out of need,

out of longing,

out of emptiness,

now i feel only resolve,

to wake up each day open to discovery.

So, today I spent hours going through boxes of my stuff and throwing things away. I moved recently, pulled stuff out of storage and in order to avoid clutter, both physical and spiritual I suppose, I decided to go through this sorting process. It reminded me of many things. For one it reminded me that I have this love/hate relationship with nostalgia and sentimentality. On the one hand, I find it valuable to keep photographs, books and other mementos as a link to the times in my life when I acquired those objects.

I guess I’ve fallen into the trap of age though. Looking at them now at the age of 31 they have more weight. For instance, I read every Bar Mitzvah card I had received and I got sad both for the friends that came in and out of my life and the friends of my family and loved ones that have died. The friends I haven’t seen in years fall into that category of people that come into your life for a season I suppose, but still, reading their words and seeing photographs of them got me feeling kind of morose. It also made me happy, thinking of the good time I had at the Bar Mitzvah and in general during the 13th year of my life.

All in all I guess hanging onto photographs and other assorted records of your past is a good thing to do, if only because it reminds you of how much you’ve grown and gained since then.

Still, nostalgia is a sticky thing.

I took this photograph on a break during a recent shoot. This is Griffith Park, which is sort of L.A.’s version of Central Park. I’m not sure if these guys are actually cowboys or ranchers, but they were certainly experienced horsemen – they just moved like they knew what they were doing.

It is 9:56 on Friday night. I’m listening to an album that I can’t recall hearing all the way through. I may have, years ago when I worked at a record store in a lonely corner of a shopping mall. The manager used to let us unwrap CD’s, play them and then shrink wrap them, price them and put them back into the rack. Now as the second track of “A Storm In Heaven” by The Verve comes on I realize I have heard it before. Hmm. Delete or keep? I’m sorting through my iPod and music collection in general, adding and deleting.

I’m also wondering at the interconnectivity of the events in our lives. Every thing I’ve done before, which naturally was a result of decisions I made and instincts I followed has led to this Friday night. Time slides forward in a completely linear fashion. For better of for worse, we all arrive somewhere and of course we’re never stationary, so that arrival is merely momentary, only to be overtaken by the next leg of the trip.

Part of me feels I could be spending this Friday night doing better things. Part of me feels that I should just be right here doing what I’m doing. Perhaps my past has led me to this present for some more important purpose than I currently realize.

Right now I feel nostalgic as I’ve come across music from an old girlfriend. I had left my iPod with her accidentally one night and the next time I saw her she gave it back to me after adding music to it. Some of it I’ve kept, some I’ve deleted. I remember feeling the rush of excitement waiting at the bus station one day when I went to visit her. I had to take a Transbay bus from Oakland to San Francisco and then a BART(Bay Area Rapid Transit) train and the trip took about an hour. I remember clearly my excitement building to the point where I ran up the stairs of the train station, found her and planted a kiss on her. She wore this great combination of lipstick and lip gloss that kind of made my lips stick to it. It made kissing an even more sensual experience. She also smelled great. There’s something so wonderful about a girl getting all made-up and coming to meet you at the train station. Really makes you feel wanted and appreciated. So now, she’s gone, but her music remains – and music is something she loves very much indeed. Our passion for music was one of the things we had in common. I’m not sad that she’s gone. Looking back, it wasn’t going to work anyway. I guess I just miss that excitement and that feeling of being desired. Reminds me of the Mark Twain quote “Love is the irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.” There’s truth in the quote to be sure, but it rings a bit cynical.

Maybe this is one of those moments when I’m supposed to be keenly aware of the importance of faith. I know I’ll fall in love again and who knows, maybe next time it will work. I tend to think I’ll go through a few more heartbreaks before I find a wife. I’ve never been a “play the field” kind of person and being a partner in a company has taught me both the value of loyalty and commitment, as well as revealing my ability to stick with something bigger than myself. I count myself fortunate in that regard. I’ve met some people along the way who for all of their positive qualities just can’t make jobs or relationships work. It always pains me to see that and makes me wish I could do something about it. But of course I can’t. It’s always up to us to figure out how to fit the puzzle pieces of our lives together. I know two people in particular who seemed great together, but neither was willing to compromise, so they ultimately couldn’t make the other person happy and they separated. Now they both seem resigned to being alone, though neither one seems really happy about it.

Why is it we can never seem to be happy being alone? I’ve never heard anyone say “Oh, no, relationships aren’t for me, I like being alone too much.” Sure, there are people who are much more free-spirited and will take off and go mountain climbing or what have you and since they live that kind of life they tend to fly solo, but eventually even those people seem to settled down with someone. This seems illogical to me. It seems like we should become okay with being alone before we meet someone, fall in love and reshape our lives to fit the new lover in. Of course, life is unpredictable so we generally meet someone and then have to improvise. Everyone is all too familiar with the knowledge that love never knocks on your door at some magically opportune time. Love knocks, you answer, then you make it all work, or at least try to.

Now I’m listening to Moonlight Mile, my favorite Stones song. I think I’ll stop writing now and watch something. Enough babbling.