A Celibration of Life

This song most closely resembles my favorite poem:

A Song from the Highest Tower

Let it come, let it come,
The season we can love.

I waited so long
That I forever forget.
Fears and sufferings
Are gone to heaven.
And the unhealthy thirst
Darkens my veins.

Let it come, let it come,
The season we can love.

As the meadow
Fallen into oblivion,
Grown, and flowery
With incense and weeds,
At fierce drone
Of dirty flies.

Let it come, let it come,
The season we can love!

-Arthur Rimbaud

End of Summer Days

I walked to the ocean's edge and took in the salt air on a cloudy, surreal afternoon. Afterward we went to a nice restaurant, The Plaza Grill, and chose our dinner carefully. I had tomato basil soup with one raw oyster. He had clam chowder with yam fries. While looking over the drink menu (yes my drinking days are basically over, I know) a menu item shocked me to attention: Absinthe. Ambrose had a $200 dollar bottle once, bought from the Internet. Susan Sarandon smuggled it from Europe in a green listernine bottle and presented it to a young lover in a recent movie saying, "Tonight is an absinthe night." The exotic Italian actress Asia Argento was in a car accident causing a fatality and absinthe was found in her possession; a fact that made her country dislike her even more. And of course Vincent Van Gogh was famous for his love of absinthe, which was believed to have influenced his paintings, including the psychedelic swirls in "Starry Night". I thought it was contraband in the United States.

For ten dollars a shot, from an absinthe brand called, "Lucid" you get a crystal goblet, a single sugar cube, and a tin cup of water to pour on the sugar, one drop at a time, to allow the sweetness to cloud up the green hue of the liquor. I took a sip. Going down my throat warm and fuzzy I swear the punch of the drink hit me immediately. Daryl's eyes turned a deeper green, the noise in the room became a distant static, and I felt...content.

Afterward we checked out four DVDs, gathered pillows and blankets for our fold out sofa, and vegged out to the rantings of Timothy Leroy (usually I would NEVER rent a documentary on him) while cuddling.

I document this day here because it's one of the last 'free' days I have this summer, 2008. Soon responsibilities will constrict both my time, and Daryl's time. Hustle mode comes early this Autumn. So here is a record of our lazy and adventurous Friday. In one day it seems nothing is accomplished, but does it need to be? I don't need to cross off a list to be happy and know that I'm alive. There will be time for stormy weather. For now, I can spend a day inhaling the smell of the Northern Pacific Ocean, taking photographs, and hearing Daryl's beautiful guitar strumming. I am trying to be present in every moment. That's my secret to happiness.

Lionel Richie: God or Antichrist?

This is my favorite image for this time in my life: an artist leaping into the void (by Yves Klein). Jumping into the unknown. Before I explain how this relates to me, and anyone reading this, I want to jot down the most beautiful religious myth created by THE man: William Blake. Blake created a mythology where there was only one God- a man so perfect and angelic that there was no problems in his domain but one: loneliness. So this fictitious story resumes with a perfect but lonely man who decides to form a partner. God created his perfect partner: another God with the image, form and grace of a woman. Then when he stood back and saw how beautiful this woman was he fell to his knees and wept. His tears were so monumental and his joy so overwhelming that as he fell to his knees he, and his woman, shattered into tiny little fragments that landed like stars, covering the world. The moral? We are all shattered Gods on a unified quest to collect ourselves and what is beautiful in each other. Blake's the man. But the Professor who told me that repeated just a little too much, "We are all fallen...." through the semester. But the mythology is how I live my life: I'm a bunch of shattered stars, stained glass, that when put together creates God. I am God and so are my fellow Earthlings. It was the image of a woman that caused the collapse, so naturally it is love that we seek. Repair yourself and find love. That's nature's gift to us. And when you find it, and I hope everyone does, it is indescribably gorgeous.

So on to this Yves Klein image. I'm jumping into the void with no net (but hey, he had the net photo shopped out of his image!), but I have faith in myself, the ability to give without asking for anything in return, and my brain to get me by. This goes back to being self sufficient and seeing people as drugs (that old blog I wrote). And it's a crass, cynical world sometimes- look Whittney Huston was the one who sung, "The greatest love of all is learning to love yourself". She's a crack addict. You just have to laugh off the cynicism and live and let live.

I saw a path for me that would lead me in a completely different direction then what I've tried to make bloom for the past year. Yesterday morning this happened. A life changing decision- jumping into the void- and mother fucking Lionel Richie, channeled through either God or Satan, came up on the radio with his song, "Hello! Is it me you're looking for?" I took it as a sign to keep trying; let whatever was in the void for me remain there. The void is as limitless as our ability to create a world around us that we can love. So thanks Lionel Richie, or no thanks. You changed the course of my life for now. Whatever happens I'm not afraid, and I am a shattered God in a world of the same angels as myself.

Why Lucian is Being Neutered Tomorrow....

Paper Towels Cause Drug-like Frenzies...

At the End of His "Mad Half Hour"