Blog as diary feed

I've received criticism concerning what I post on my blog for years. Too personal, too self-indulgent, too 'emo.' For about a year, I have had the rss feed to my Notes on facebook.com. This has served to expand the exposure I receive as well as the commentary about why I should censor what I write given the diversity my audience represents.
The main criticism being the Head Case Factor. That women, as potential sex partners (as if that is ever an appropriate reason to self-edit) will read what I write and assign me the dating equivalent of a scarlet letter. That my self-indulgent, 'emo scribbling would be reason enough to take me out of the running. Last time I checked, I was not up for public office, nor am I applying for security clearance. And it is no secret that I am nowhere near 'most eligible bachelor' status. In fact, I am probably considerably closer to the least eligible end of the spectrum on the 'who's counting' list.
I can muster about one and a half rats' asses when pressed to share my concern. Hypocritically speaking, I'm writing about it here; as much to clarify my intentions for myself as it is a manifesto for why I find comfort in this level of transparency.
There are myriad reasons I write on my blog. For instance, my creative method DEMANDS absolute truth. One of the most important beliefs I have about art I learned from something Picasso said, in effect, 'art is a lie that tells the truth.' An artist cannot afford to be dishonest with itself. There are far too many manipulations of truth in the 'real world', way too much feigned honesty, half-truths that create more deception than complete dishonesty does.
Additionally and for some time, I have wanted to make the leap from having a blog as well as a journal, to blogging it all. Everything I would write in my journal, I would publish here. Like an autobiography, maybe autoblography? I am moving in that direction, yet I still use my journal for petty ranting as well as detailing the basic details of events, experiences, banality I find more boring than juicy.
It has changed since I was with J. I was less revealing about all things Nation of Two. To protect the sanctity of our 'ness' as well as to avoid the potentially unwanted advice I may have gotten about what a douchebag I was or how whipped I was for what I was willing to put up with between us. That could have been said for both of us, but before I digress to the point of being accused of tangentitis, I'll stop. Suffice it to say, I will censor what I write for the sake of a lover or family member's feelings. And, I resent that.
And the most important reason is related to my understanding of the Human Condition. In essence, I cannot know the answer to the big Why? yet I can detail the where, when, how parts of the journey. I am here. I have thoughts about what that means but the Truth is unknowable. I will die. When I do, all that will be left is my creative output. Better that it be as much a reflection of truth as possible. I believe a corollary between truth and longevity exists. The more courage I exhibit in maintaining truth, the greater the likelihood that it may help someone, may provide comfort, may incite insight. And in doing so, become alive to live separate from my life, alongside it while I am alive, and hopefully long after I no longer am.

Tarot reading

My inquiry:

"What does the future hold for my fulfillment of sexual desire?"

"The left card represents an important element of the past.
King of Wands:
The essence of fire behaving as air, such as lightning: A great and daring leader who inspires others to rise to challenges alongside him. An artist who can take hold of an idea and make it a reality through bold action. One who is forceful, charismatic, and honest, leading by example, but unafraid to invest authority in others. A dashing and magnetic personality, carrying authority naturally, and striking at the world with swiftness and grace."

•I am thinking this means something about DOING art. I have been thinking about my relationship to art-making and that it is my primary relationship.

• That I am married to the craft, for better or worse.

• Like many artists, I find a measurable increase in output when I am having sex.

•The Muse. I am between muses, and my production has decreased to nearly nothing.

• Quintessentially, this speaks to self-confidence. That in the past I had far less conflict with pursuing and accepting sexual expression. That seems to have been lost.


"The middle card represents a deciding element of the present.
Two of Wands (Dominion):
Established power and influence over others. Setting goals and a vision for the future. Coming to grips with the impact of past decisions, considering the current state of affairs, and developing a plan of action. Responsible leadership."

•This!
The state of transition I am in has an effect on my following through with any present opportunities that are available; that I am sublimating desire for sexual expression so as to focus my energy on securing a home, assessing priorities and responding in kind.

• That I am still hung up on a continuing romance with former Lovers. Move On! I hear the masses chant...

• The goal is to aspire to fulfill higher goals, setting aside pleasure for the sake of Happiness.

"The right card represents a critical element of the future.
Wheel of Fortune:
The path of destiny. Karma on a grand scale. An unexpected turn of good fortune. A link in the chain of events. Success, luck, and happiness."

• I am confused by the future, though it does help to confirm for me the intiutions I have been experiencing. To wit: Keep doing what I have been doing, I am assuredly on the correct path.

• The confusion is the result of wanting to know the outcome before it has fully manifest while at the same time focusing my energy on cultivating unknowingness.

•To maintain an open-minded attitude of gratitude for what I have, remembering that I do not know anything about what may be coming and that really, I do not want to know because it is counter to Joy: life lived outside what I believe is possible is what I truly desire.

In the wilderness

I have been contextualizing the experience of being apart from the life I once lived with J as such: in the wilderness. My life had been domestic and secure. I had a firm sense Home. Over time I have grown more comfortable with living without what had been accepted as real. The ballet tickets, frequent dining at cafe Riggio and il Contuccio, vet bills for cats, driving the mini around SF. Grocery shopping at Trader Joes. Shopping in general as though it was a real activity all by itself- a pasttime perhaps.
I am writing this from the porch at the Rancho. The things I own are packed into Kilo's bus. We are a day or so away from the Bay. The old ways of being in SF are coming back to mind. I have questions about what moving to up north will come to mean.
I have been in Santa Barbara for about a year and a half. Rental Express, 635 Tennessee, the DJ thing, are distant memories, now.
Has my experience in Santa Barbara taught me anything?
What can I learn from this time spent 'in the wilderness'?
What I can say with certainty is that I have friends in a way that is real; friends whom I care for and believe in. I feel their love. While I may have lost two of the most significant people in my life in the past two years, I have made friends with people that I want to know long after this period has changed into what it will become.
Is moving back to the Bay the first step in the next cycle? Is it significant that I did not get to reconcile? I do know the story is still being written. I do know that there is a phrase for what I experienced after Vicki died: memento mori. I was called to my life in such a way as to be unmistakabe; I do know that the cliché 'you can never go Home' has served to give me perspective. Is it true? The story is still being written.

Waiting on the rain

Today was the day we initially agreed to head out of SB en route to SF. The rain has been a welcome change in SB. The streets are cleaner, the creeks rushing with brown frothy earthen waters, grasses and trees rejoice and drink. Clouds, gray and off-gray fill the sky with their volume adding credibility to the flocks of gulls and crows that swim high above pretending to be fish.
Spent yesterday catching up and saying goodbye to Rob, and in essence to what I was here doing and not doing. The weeks are going to swift by, I am excited that I have this opportunity. The timing is right. I have stores of energy to draw upon. San Francisco 2.0, I am thinking. With a new iPhone, ample money, friends and unknown opportunities coming our way, I am confident in our chances. This looks like the perfect start to a new year and new decade. And when the rain moves on, so shall we.

Fake it, til we makin' it

I am looking for an apartment in the Bay Area. Below is the ad we (Kilo + I) are using:
"Looking for a 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom apartment or similar in any of a variety of East Bay (and possibly) San Francisco neighborhoods. Both of us have lived in SF and the south bay, (currently living in Southern California) We are looking to return to the beautiful East Bay, tentatively by February 2010. We both have decent credit, and good income. Mid-30s professionals, hitting the sweet spot of our careers, and want to be in the middle of the action in the Bay. Any leads, or ideas that sound like a fit, feel free to contact me. "

Unfortunately, as in many cases, I want to spell out the REAL story, but feel it is inappropriate to tell the truth which would look something like this:

"Two mid-thirties, heart-broken slackers on unemployment seek a kind landlord willing to take a chance. Can afford $1000 to $1100/mo. One of them fled the city in hopes of finding his heart after the end of the most significant relationship of his life. The other took a gamble leaving his stable home of eight years to move in with his longtime girlfriend who threw him out only months after moving in. Our collective instincts are telling us this is *right*. We are kind, hard-working, music-loving + artistic. The Bay is where we hope to find success. If you vibe with this and have something fitting, we'll make a Home."

I can sense the collective cringe from landlords the Bay over anticipating the Fed seizing their property after a 100 plant grow op is busted.
Wouldn't it be nice if Mr Heady McBudstone had a phat pad he wanted to fill with a couple of mellow Lebowskis-in-training?

I can (pipe) dream...

2010

If it's meaningful or not is something I am working out in my mind. What I know is:

I had not lived @ 410 Sola street.

SFAI was a fantasy- I remember drooling over the brochure, specifically the cityscape image of Nob Hill at night.

"Incite insight" was the most important art I was doing.

I was living in San Diego, in Hilcrest, working for Kinko's, renting VHS tapes from Blockbuster, going to Peet's frequently enough that we were awarded customers of the week.

Most of the friends I know now were still strangers living their lives outside my awareness; time can be understood as a vector, each of us an event, unfolding along a specific trajectory. That we would sync up is meaningful because some of my best friends over the last 10 years, are once again strangers.

36 now instead of 26, I like 36 better. I am thinking the next ten could be as meaningful, as significant as the last ten. That a child may be in my future, that I have yet to meet said child's mother, that she does not yet know I am her baby's Daddy.

% of time spent where-
Santa Barbara: 15%
San Diego: 10%
San Francisco: 70%
Homeless (travelling): 5%

Therapy seemed like a mysterious and fearful pursuit.

I am focused on getting back to San Francisco again, however this time I go with a completely different reason; Art is still a cause I believe in.

Some things are the same. Some are different. What had only just begun has long been completed. What was once owned has been lost. Worries, concerns, ambitions once burning have exhausted themselves like ancient solar systems, like dead galaxies- a web of associations, connections and reasons disassociate, unravel and burn out.

Inspiration

This sums it up well today.

Santa Bar Bar goes bye bye...

Been a long, strange ride this past year. As I ramp up and move forward into this next decade, I'm reflecting on the successes and lessons learned. Way back in September of '08, arriving at the Rancho with Byron, our sights set on foreign horizons, my secret agenda to, if not win her back, at least reconcile all that was once good and loving about what was. It has taken me more than a year to admit to myself and to have the courage to utter aloud that my hovering in SB was little more than an attempt to re-live what we once had.
So, not much luck on that front. And while I do not want to begrudge her anything, I am disappointed that some sort of reunion could not take place. In the end, it doesn't matter. What is done is done. Again, it has taken me years to be willing to entertain the truth that I was also playing the "cheating" game when we were together. My version was less overt and by definition more devious because I did not ever let myself own the behavior of teasing and leading on women I wanted to hook up with. We were both cheating on each other. I pretended that because I never let it get physical, I was not actually cheating, conveniently ignoring that I'd walked away from several occassions where half naked, aroused women were willing to have sex with me.
Thanks to conversations with friends and learning about this whole realm of sex and singlehood I've come to realize that what we shared with one another was only some of the deception that went on between us. The fairytale never existed, and as much as I really wanted to believe it was possible that this was something bigger than either of us, I've come to reLize we were never suited to be monogamous- lovers maybe, but that we faked it for so long, that I played nice all those years feeling as I did that so much of how we were rubbed me the wrong way but it was a two-three year relationship that stretched and lasted nine years. We probably should have gone our own ways a year into being in SF... Maybe then we'd still be friends.
So to the Bay Area I return. The circle completed. And, really, I believed that maybe new sex could develop from it. I still do, I cannot deny that. She is a sexy beautiful woman whom I learned with, who taught me and learned from me. She is the prettiest pussy I've had the pleasure to pleasure...
And this whole Love thing is a self-imposed fiction; a projection. Sex is real. Love is the desire to prolong good sex. The Big Love, the God love that will propel someone to jump into a burning building to save children and animals is more real maybe but romantic love is fiction. I want more good sex. 2010 could be gone before I know it, and I am looking forward to NSA nakedness. Yum.