In Between

I’m repeatedly surprised by the moments in life that feel intimate or revealing. I realizing that this is because the narratives that set my expectations have it all wrong. You see, the television shows and movies of my youth taught me that the moments I could expect to feel exposed, all involved unlocked bathroom doors and the backseats of sedans. Maybe it’s just me, but those instances have been a breeze. It turns out that in real life, literal “undress” does not translate to its metaphorical counterpart.

Meanwhile, the instances that do leave me feeling like I got caught with my pants down around my ankles are all horribly mundane. It’s the moment when an acquaintance happens to catch me on Bart struggling with my bag of dirty tupperware and sweaty gym clothes or someone strolls up to my desk to find me separating trail mix into fruit, nut and chocolate piles that I wish I could disappear. As crazy as it sounds, I don’t think I’m the only one that feels this way.

So why is it seemingly easier to meet an eligible lady or gent and take them home for the night, than it is to have someone catch you eating your favorite top ramen and cabbage snack? I think this stems from the fact that somewhere in the romance of an unexpected encounter we are freed from everyday minutiae. The novelty of the act or the adventure overshadows the pile of “Us” magazines that is sitting in the corner of your room or that weird patch of eczema that otherwise embarasses you to no end.

Enchanted or unusual events give us pass to rise above what I now realize are the moments that never make it onto the big screen. The in between times get us from one adventure to the next. We know what to do with the highs and the lows, it’s everything else that can be a bit unsettling. I guess all I can say, is thank goodness for the Tina Fey’s and Mitchel Hurwitz’s and their new era of programming that seems to be solving this dilemma for the generations to come.

Something New

So often i wonder what keeps me from writing here? From one of the only places that i know satisfies me on every level. Perhaps, perfectionism? Distraction? The need for a tangible result?

It is all these things and more.

Scoldings aside, I am here now and would rather take the time to make the best of this appearance. In an attempt to get the backlogged thoughts out of my brain and into the world, I think I’ll start with my list of thoughts I’ve found post worthy in recent history.

1. Serial Life - A look at how I (like so many of my peers) can mark my life by the tv series I was watching at the time. From “Punky Brewster” and “Full House”, to “The Wire” and “Mad Men”, there has always been some series that accompanies me through some era of my life and miraculously fit the disposition of that time. This phenomena seems worth taking a second glance at. What void do you think these shows fill and what about them appeals to us so deeply?

2. Where am I - when Eli and I came back from NY there was a unique sense of being lost in Eli’s chest. As if, once he exited the structures/routines of his life here in oakland “Eli” was nowhere to be found. I have felt this way before and most definitely will feel this way again, and am extraordinarily grateful not to feel this way now. The mystery of how this came to be is where the meat of this story lies.

3. Out Huntin - My confusion about “the hunt” is the most consistent line of questioning I’ve experienced in the last few years of my life. I look around at the people I love, and I see a desperate search for some unknowable, un-achievable, and seemingly nonexistent, event or moment. A quest that pushes all boundaries of sanity, or sobriety, or really even safety; and while i see that exactly therein is where the beauty lies, I can’t help but wonder what we’re all so hungry for? One after one I watch those around me pick up their battered bodies, cover their wounds, and without second thought continue to try to satisfy their unquenchable thirst.

There is a chance that some of these topics will appear as posts of their own, but for now I just needed to get them out of my head to make space for something new.

Obstacle Course

I’ve always been fascinated by the part of human nature that feels the need to throw itself up against the seemingly unconquerable. What is it about us that feels the need to wage war against the world’s tallest mountains and largest rivers and most inexplicable elements. When some such feat is not readily available we choose to create roadblocks of our own; the high jump, marathon’s, weight lifting, and a book of world records as obscure and inconsequential as the human mind can dream up.

Worst of all is the fact that I do not know this instinct from observation alone. The urge to throw myself up against the cliff-side and rail upward toward the free fall lies deep within my bones. Anyone that knows me is aware that I tackle head on at full speed and really, to what end?

Obstacles courses sort of sum up this absurd human drive for me. What are they besides a series of abnormal and challenging feats that have no result besides separating winners from losers. My favorite “obstacle” in such events is not called a teeter toter but that is basically what it is. The only difference is that participants are expected to walk straight up one side of the beam until their weight shifts the balance and they drop (suddenly and in free fall) to the ground. Once they have their bearings they simple walk on to tackle the next feat in the long line of hurdles.

What this simple stunt makes clear to me is that it is not so much the outcome of these acts that we are interested in. We all know that at the end of our struggles we will have scaled a mountain, crossed a river, or flown a paper airplane further than any other person on earth. In this same way, anyone that tackles the teeter toter knows full well that that at some point the floor will fall out from under their feet and they will have no choice but to go with that fall until they once again touch on solid ground.

In breaking down these challenges I can see that in their simplest forms they are nothing more than a fairly cheap metaphor for existence as a whole. Isn’t it true that to achieve almost anything in life you have move straight into a challenge that involves some pain or fear that we can not know until we are there in it’s grip. At that point we have two choices: to turn around and go back to safety, or move straight through it. To ride out the fall, as long as it may be, until we look around see that we on the other side. Once there, we can revel in the glory just long enough to get us to calmly move forward, toward the next teeter toter that will inevitably come our way.

Fro-yo and Heartache

Recently, I found myself sitting in my drive way in the middle of the night watching big salty tears drop into my carmel pudding fro yo.

Thinking back, it’s funny. Life can turn me into a kid in about 3 seconds flat.

I’ve now learned that when I am upset it helps to separate and look down on the scene to see myself as a frustrated snot nosed little kid. Something about this perspective helps take the sting off the situation. It makes it possible to see the event as but one of many heartaches, that I know will ultimately pass.

Mostly, I hope to retain this ability as I get older. To know that even as the grief surrounds more significant of life’s dilemma's, I need only to pan up while allowing the focus to soften, to understand on some small level, things are gonna be alright.

Card Catalog

Recently themes of identity, boundaries, and singularity keep entering my life.

I don’t have any deep or unique statements to make on these topics but they do remind me of a project that has been in my head for a number of years and I figure it’s time to get it out on paper. I have no clue where this idea came from but one day I dreamed of getting a beautiful old wooden card catalog and filling it with cards that held all the details of my life. Drawers with facts, interests, mistakes. I imagined cards with the different addresses I’ve lived at. Others would list artists I admire; Richter, Almodovar, Motherwell, Serra. Cards that gave the latin and common names of plants that fascinate me, descriptions of prize possessions, people I’ve loved, or awesome days and charmed moments.




An important detail of this dream is that each of the cards actually functions as an index card would, with a simple subject on the front and description on the back. One might read:

Front: Kitty Key
Back: Hard to believe it took me until 2011 to purchase the amazingly adorned key that I’ve lusted after for so many years.

If I was feeling particularly advantageous I’d sketch of picture of the key on the front as well, just to show how awesome the rainbows and stars that surround the lisa frank esq kitty’s really are. Simple, insignificant and yet important to me, which makes it worth having a spot in the card catalog.

Many times, I’ve come close to making this project real, still not knowing exactly what about it appeals to me. I think having it might make me feel safe. That it could do something I can’t. I like the idea of looking up “East of Eden” and seeing what few sentences my 27 year old self choose to write about that epic book.

The funny thing is, that while it seems this would be something that details truths, I know that it would hold more bias and coincidence than anything else. Now that I say it, I think this fact is exactly what appeals to me about the little scheme. A collection of amusing details is probably the closest I’ll ever come to standing back and seeing some version of myself looking back at me.

So friends, if you come across the cabinet of my dreams give a ring, it’s probably time to indulge