Monday, October 15, 2012

Gettin' Late -

I have the idea that I've fucked up.  Don't you?  I fucking hate it.  I hate it worse that I can't rectify how I've fucked up.

I don't think I'm permanently broken, though, because I no longer hold the naive indicators of youth, as in, I no longer figure out how i'm feeling by my standing in a group, what permutations of facial expressions might land on me, or how much I might be able to brag.   I haven't lost my ego.  But I have changed, in a few sharp strokes, my tastes, what it is I consume, who it is I chose to associate, and where I feel comfortable.

That's okay.

I certainly don't have a cosmic structural understanding of events, and I don't think anyone does.  That's painful, too.  I could be further ahead than I am, but I'm doin' alright, and that's a lot better than where I could be, and I have to remember that everyday.  It isn't a joke.  That's doesn't mean I don't want or have a sense of humor, or a sharp tongue that's gotten me in trouble.  Or that I can't appreciate the soaking epic beauty of a sunny sunday in the mountains.  Or that the passing of time doesn't drive me insane in a way that I can't articulate or seem weird when I try in any manner less superficial than weather-speak.

I'm here.  Working on what I work on.  I like to paint, mostly, and I've picked up the guitar after not playing for about 3 years.  It feels good to play it.  For me.  And not think about all the other people. But boy have I gotten rusty!

Still, I've got a painting here that I'm almost proud of.  I don't have a picture of it, so instead I'll show a picture of a previous similar painting and post the new one in soon (which is pink and green, but same style).

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