Challenge: What Can I Write In 15 minutes…

Pretty good day today in the city. Day 300 for me or thereabouts since moving in with the gf. Mostly moving in. Still closing out my apartment back in the Garden State… which I know I will miss terribly although I never really made it much of a home due to bouts of unemployment interleaved with bouts of being out in the city… err, trying to socialize. I’ll miss the convenient, and free, outdoors. In the city it’s much more limited and typically comes with a price tag.

It was a pretty good day in the sense that it was hot and dry, no clammy humidity turning my shirt into something with the weight of a bullet proof jacket… and the things that bug me about it didn’t bug me as much. Yeah I had to walk through a cloud of pungent urine vapor in the same stretch of blocks on Henry Street, but at least today I didn’t see the guy responsible for it (Pee-Pee Man). Other days I’ve had to see him in action. Who pees on a mailbox in broad daylight? Further on my trip through Chinatown I noticed the absence of the usual smoking china boys with their angry anime hair styles. I swear, some days it’s like your endlessly trailing smoker after smoker. But not today. Even the fish stalls weren’t as odiferous as usual (I’m very smell oriented so this particularly kills me). But today was not so bad. Oh, and today I ended a job that I was glad that I had but it was time to move on.

Below is a pretty picture I took while on vacation recently.

Creative Doldrum – A good thing?

Recently I was at a new acquaintance’s art gallery show and we found some time to catch up. Well, ok, first I grilled him on his creative process behind a particular painting. Really an odd way to open a discussion now that I think of it – when I’m processing an image or what have you (and I ‘m not saying the results are grand) the changes I make lead the image to look or feel… right(?) or I continue to work on it until it does. Or I give up and maybe come back to it later. It’s not any kind of logical path thing I can spell out along the way and often I can’t even remember all of what I did or undid to get there. I dunno why I thought it would any different for a painter so was completely surprised by the lack of a cogent response. I mean, he’s been painting for a really long time, surely he has some by the numbers process… well, no!

In the course of our discussion he’d asked how I was doing and I said, I’d met someone, blah, blah, blah, my photo output had slowed way down (note: It occurrs to me now that I may have “shot out” my environment and really need new vistas). Then he asked what I did when I was not doing photography, and I said, well, I write(!)… but not much at the moment.

Despite work and having a really awesome new person in my life – add to that my duties as a dad – I still do have some time to create. Something. Anything. But I haven’t been.

But that’s not what I said to Max, I’d given him a cloud of things, good things, that were going on with me and some vagaries about creativity and from that he plucked out, oh, so you’re in love. And I said…
Well, yeah.

It’s pretty interesting how he connected those dots. Maybe it’s a cliché, I dunno. Now I’m wondering if my creativity really is inversely proportional to my happiness. I’ve been cruising along for the last several months, fairly stress free, enjoying things as they come – yet watchful and cautious because life can change up on you in a heartbeat or less – and vegetating creatively. I’ve frequently had topics I could blog about pop in my head only to forget them later. The spark fizzles, I s’pose or I can’t maintain my own interest in the subject, or something else happens that holds my interest.

… oh, so you’re in love. And I said…
Well, yeah.

In terms of my current relationship, it’s definitely not something I hide, quite the opposite, but this slump predates that…
… It hit me that I may be closer than I’ve ever been to being perfectly happy with myself and living a fairly drama free life – that’s really something, ain’t it? If the trade for less thrash is having the creative itch die down… well I’m pretty sure I can learn to live with it. For a short time. Until it pisses me off. 😉

One Long Moment

I’m sitting in a bar on a weekday night in a city I don’t know well. The place is starting to fill. The DJ just showed up. On a Tuesday night? Wow. I’m feeling pretty all right from dinner and a few pints. Took the edge off the caffeine I’d had at our initial rendezvous point. That was like six hours ago… I can’t remember everything I’ve said so far and I have to keep reminding myself not to stare. I’m buzzed.

Fascinating is an understatement. She has all of my attention. Did I just forget to breathe? There’s something that seems familiar about her… hell, we’d only met today. Everything’s clicking. Everything’s clicking?

She’s talking off the top of her head with no thought of consequence, or so it seems. She’s not trying to impress, just being herself. I think she’s pretty awesome but I still have my guard up. Being careful not to drop the wrong words and say something to screw this up. This date is a rare and addictive state all by itself. The weight from a rough year of learning experiences drags on me but I’m keeping up on my end. I think. I sure hope so. This one could wind up… grrr. I’m thinking about the future, I need to be here and now…

A few rounds and several topics later I catch myself feeling… unguarded. Vulnerable. It’s unfamiliar, and almost uncomfortable. Ok, frightening is a good word. I look inward, examine, decide that I’m safe, and the anxiety evaporates. When did I get so bound up? I tell her. Thought process and all. Why would I not? She smiles for like the thousandth time this evening and I realize my cheeks hurt from doing the same.