Cigarette butts, empty bottles, and a side of stupid

Hello, hello, hello, echo, echo, echo.

So this strange dude with a potbelly and a hair shirt (that's me) walks back into a room (this blog) and although the dude feels at home there is six inches of dust on the counter tops and no one bothered to take the mail out of the mailbox for six months and instead just let the postman cram what he could into the box and let the rest just fall on the floor.  Really people if we are going to be neighbors it's the least you could do. 

Where is your head at?  I know I haven't been here in months, but I come back and it's like you've thrown a massive party and destroyed the place.  The least you could have done was invited me to the party.  Hey man, what the hell is with the used Q-tips everywhere and is that a pile of rubber underwear in the corner of the bedroom?  Look, I like to drink and destroy things just as much as the next guy but that is just sick.  If we are going to be friends we have to get one thing straight - I am going to come and go like a junky and you're just going to have to wait around for me until I need my next fix.  I mean you didn't really think this was going to be a two way street.  You can hang out here and treat the place like a bus station bathroom, but when I get back I expect to be able to eat off of that toilet seat buster. 

Don't expect me to be all happy to see you, and don't ask me questions about where I have been.  I am a ghost and an invisible man who just so happens to like to run naked down the middle of a crowded street in broad daylight occasionally.  This is exhibitionism and torture shaped like a bullet and surrounded in a gooey chocolate and toffee coating. A guy needs space to run around like a wild dog, but dogs do like to have their bellies scratched from time to time, so here I am.  My belly is up and ready to be rubbed, it is ample, and it won't be that hard to defuzz yourself after. 

It really went off the rails in the middle somewhere, but in my defense I am completely insane, and I never said any of this was going to make you any smarter.  If anything the most you can hope for is to not end up brain damaged.  I pride myself as being a man that can prattle on with the best of them.  Yes I just used the word prattle - I do occasionally like to think I live in the 1950's.  Back when women were broads and  booze was in every desk drawer. 

I know at some point in my life I'll pay for that last sentence.  Probably some broad with an attitude problem.  Oh boy!

9 people in Israel read my blog this month.  If you've been following the news then you will understand why I was floored by that.  People with bombs bursting and lives being lost around them reading my mental drizzle astounds me.  Thank you to whomever you all are.  I hope if anything you were able to ignore reality and keep entertained by my idiocy.  It makes you realize blogged words are not hollow.  It often feels like what I write should just echo off of the walls of the web and return home unread, but the reality is those words find eyes in the most unlikely places.

Peace...

White guys who dig rap get shot on karaoke night

I am a contributing member of a charitable group called Canadian Artists for the Poor.  I will be part of a project they have in the form of Art Walks in Calgary Starting June 4th.  That being said I have been working like a mad man.  Painting as much as I possibly can.  My art has changed recently because the music I have been listening to has changed drastically.  When something changes in my art I don't know if it will ever change back.  My life has changed a lot in a short time.  Most of it for the better.  I miss things, I take things too personally.  I haven't blogged in a long time because I have nothing to say.  Everything that I have to say is on the canvas behind me.  I think I might actually be becoming an artist.  I mean I might be able to call myself that.  Others do, but I don't believe them.

I hope that some day my intention shows better.  I hope the things I've done wrong in my life, I somehow find a way to make up for.  I don't know where I am going, but I just have my head down.  I don't have time to be introspective.  I miss you all, but now is not the time for me to come back to this spot yet.  I am working, and when that dries up the words will flow again.  Until then stop by my studio - you can see where my brain is at, where my heart is at, and where my life is at.  I miss you...

In the mean time I will be listening to rap.  Hardcore rap.  Lots of inappropriate words screamed into my ears at far too loud a decibel.  I don't think I am allowed to listen to this stuff, it is certainly not normal for an old white guy to be so into Drake, but there it is.  I just wish he would rap words I could repeat out loud.  For now I just White Man Dance my way around my studio throwing paint on the walls and occasionally on the canvas.  If someone out there knows Drake let him know he's awesome, but the clean version of his stuff only has about every 5th word so you can't listen to it, and the unclean version makes me feel like I am going to get in trouble and perhaps sent to Politically Incorrect Prison, or maybe just shot.  I dig it though - only a white guy would say that - see what I mean?

Tractors and soiled underwear in spray bomb green.

I'm writing, I'm working out twice a day, I'm painting, I'm playing guitar again (very poorly), I am working hard at my new job, I'm eating better, my head space is clearing.  The year has started well.  My new job is taking a lot of my limited brain power, but it's a good job and I really like it.  I heard an interesting term the other day "golden handcuffs".  It may be old, but it was new to me.  If you don't know, it basically means you are over paid for the job you do, so you can't go anywhere else if you are unhappy because you'll never make the same money for the equivalent work.  I think it applies to other things too - patterns you fall into that are easy, and appeal to the lazy side of your personality, and then you have a hard time getting out of it even of those patterns are destructive.

It certainly applies to me in some ways when it comes to work.  I would love to have the balls to take a major pay cut, and write for a living.  I have been encouraged to do so, but I like my lifestyle.  Right now my new job is very challenging.  I like to be challenged.  I have to set the alarm, and wake up much earlier as my new job is much farther away from home.  I am at my desk at 6:00 am, and before I leave the house I have to workout, so when the alarm goes off at 3:55 am it is earth shatteringly difficult to get out of bed.  The people that own this company are different than any business people that I have ever worked for.  They are so focused on their employees it's like waking up in an alternate universe.  I am used to fighting with my bosses to make sure my guys get what they deserve, and in this company everything is readily given if it is earned.  It makes me want to work harder, but when that happens something has to give.  I can't write as much, I can't workout as much, I can't paint as much.  So basically, I have to give of myself, and forget my needs, not only for my paycheque, but for other reasons too.  When the people you work for actually care about you first, and the success of the company is for the benefit of all including ownership, my needs start to come second.  That type of ownership is so rare, and unbelievable at times, that what I need seems small.  Basically,  it's a personal want/need deal breaker.  I don`t get to be selfish.  I need to be plugged in, I need to get the job done, and I need to cultivate that business.  It just has to be done.  Something like this, is just so rare it has to be maintained and groomed.  It has to be successful.

I have spent my life running other people`s companies, even though I have the skill and knowledge to run my own.  Sorry if that sounds immodest, but it`s the truth.  I have just never been able to find the thing I was passionate about in the business world that would make me take that kind of risk.  Having the ability to do something is only a part of the equation, you need to have the desire as well.  I guess my ability to write and my desire to be a writer has never been equal enough, or I have never been confident enough to take the risk.  It`s too bad in some ways, but where would the world be without guys like me that made sure tractors got built, or that underwear was sewed properly, and in the store on time?  Where would the world be if paint was never made in large enough quantities or didn't come in spray bomb green, what if aeroplanes weren't fixed or unloaded on time (wait a minute, bad example.  Airlines are horribly run and always late.)

The world we know is fueled by people.  Not all of us get to choose what we do to earn our retirement.  That's what the term "golden handcuffs" means to me.  I can start sentences with "I wish" or "I should", but the reality of my life is "I haven't" and "I'm not sure I ever will".  When you've written 3 books, without having gone as far as trying to sell one - it has to mean the ability doesn't match the desire, but sometimes the desire is so strong and deep it burns.  Don't count me out, I don't want your sympathy.  There are thousands of people who would do anything to have my life.  I guess that's why I often feel so selfish for wanting more.

At the end of the day, handcuffs are often used for pleasure, I'll stop here before this becomes a blog about S&M, but from time to time, it does feel like I am getting bent over.  At least now it feels like it's for a good cause.

This isn't about lost hope.  Lord knows I have landed on my feet, and I guess the question is whether I really deserve it or not.  I encourage you all to follow that path you want to be on.  Take lessons from people like me that can and don't.  You can do it.  I have run a marathon, I have written books, I have sold paintings.  None of that happens without something getting done.  Yes, we can always do more.  I will be successful in the end.  Be the pilot, be the captain, don't get tied to things.  I am not saying don't make a commitment.  I am saying that small steps towards an end result are great, but the more freedom you have, the bigger steps you can take.  Don't let anyone tell you - you can't.  That's bullshit.  Take my example and do better, be more true.  Don't take this as me complaining or regretting, my experience can make yours different, and I am not in prison, I have free will, and I am own man.  The only thing that ever held me back was me, maybe I am meant to make sure you don't make the same mistake.  Maybe the idiot windbag moniker from a couple of weeks ago was more apt than I thought.  You decide...

Burning art for warmth

I have just come back from Phoenix.  I have been golfing and enjoying excellent weather.  For those of you live in far off places you won't know that Calgary has had a very good winter thus far.  When I left it was unseasonably warm.  When I got back yesterday someone hit the "normal" switch and the weather is now horribly cold and back to normal.  I hate winter more and more and it more and more makes me want to move somewhere far far away.  I will let you all know that I have no paintings left in my house as I am currently burning them all to keep warm.

I want to talk more about writing and painting this year.  God knows you all have seen far to much about my personal life in this blog, the point of this was to talk art - it seems like the right time.  It never ceases to amaze me how many people in the world are writers who have never published or never finished their beloved work.  Myself I have finished 3 books and never bothered to try to sell one.  When I was in Phoenix golfing and gambling we had the occasion of celebrating a friends 50th birthday.  His wish was to visit a gentleman's club.  It's honestly not the type of place I frequent (twice in my life) but as it was his birthday off we went.  The club itself was rough around the edges as these places are, but unlike the  places I had been to in the past, there was a much higher percentage of attractive girls wandering around talking with the customers.

I will spare you the details for the most part, but I ended up talking with one of the girls for a very long time about her writing.  We talked about what she wanted to do in the future, and I talked about my artwork and writing.  Then I recommended some books she could read.  I don't feel particularly comfortable in this type of place, but I am at a point in my life where I will talk to anyone with ease.  What I have have found is that people always have things they want to accomplish, and it is a common point we all like to share our thoughts about.  Not only was she a writer, but she was also a very good dancer.  She had to leave our conversation to go and do her routine on stage, and for those of you who are prudish she didn't take off all of her clothes, just some of them, and we were all impressed by her beauty, but also she was a great dancer.  We all have talents, and we all have a way we would like to move forward in our lives.

When she came back later on in the evening, I told her how good a dancer she was compared with the others.  She said she enjoyed the dancing, and had always done it in one form or the other.  She was sure of herself and made it known that it was her choice to be there.  She made more money doing that than working a normal day job, so she could travel and do what she wanted to.  If I wasn't so damn ugly I would do the same thing.  The amount of time I spend "working" is what affects the real work I would like to do in my life.  It's not that I don't like the work I do now because actually I truly do.  I just don't have as much time to build my life exactly the way I wanted to, but my new friend, whom I'm sure I will never see again, was working to do just that.  She was using work as a means to an end.  I hope that works out for her.

How is it that I end up in a place where I should just be a guy, and end up having a deep conversation about life?  If this is the way my life is going, I have to say I like it a lot.  Why be some typical horny guy when you can find out something about someones life?  That's what writing is about.  I have often written characters who are prostitutes by choice (Let's get this straight my new friend IS NOT a prostitute - she was a dancer) but I have always thought there were people who found that life and been successful.  People who made the choice to do those types of things for a living because they actually liked it.  I know there is a seedier side which even she admitted to, but it hadn't affected her.  She told me she liked what she did, and I believed her.  She also told me it wasn't going to define her.  She had a plan and a good head on her shoulders.  I guess I was just fascinated.

I plan on asking more people for their stories.  I suppose I should also ask them if they mind if I posted snippets for us all to learn.  I think it's good to learn from other people.  What better to way figure out what works and what doesn't?  There is no magic method that works for everyone, but if you can get some tips along the way it may help.

So lets end on a tip from me to you: If you do live in a cold climate I suggest you remove the canvas before you burn the painting to stay warm.  That way you still have the painting, and more importantly you won't suffocate from the fumes.  Who knew acrylic paint burning would hurt so bad?  It's still better than being cold.  See - you learned something from me just by reading this.

An Idiot windbag repents his sins for the New Year

2011 has been the year when my black and white personality finally started to feel wrong. When I made the decision to shed the polarised version of myself, the only self I have ever know, my world cratered. My self worth vanished and everything I valued began to change. In short I became a crumbled version of myself, and when things were at their lowest I would reach for an ultimatum. I would search for the opposite. In my desperate and sad mind I believed that the only thing that would get me out of my self loathing must be the opposite of what I was doing. It was the old me trying to survive. Kill this, stop that, never, always, must, everything, completely, or nothing, nada, forget it.
That's who I am and always have been. The road to who I need to be, want to be, will be, has taken me to sorrow so deep it deconstructed my being. It crushed me. I have never been so sad, I have never looked so deep, and I have never come so close to setting it all on fire. Maybe that's what I did. Maybe now 2012 is the phoenix rising. My god I hope so. One of the moments I will never forget - when a friend told me to remember that for every mile of road there is two miles of ditch. It's an old saying, but it smacked me in the face. I have lived my adult life black or white. I have lived my adult life trolling the ditches and missing the point. It made me sad, and it made me angry. I thought I was smarter than that, and I didn't realize that by being so far to one side or the other, I was making my life far more difficult than it needed to be. I have not given myself the opportunity to live on a balanced path. I thought making hardcore decisions and drawing a line in the sand without compromise was who I was, and by being that way it was my version of taking the high road. living to a higher standard. When in reality it was me taking the easy road. It's easier to live in the ditch. That may not seem right, but it is. When you only view things one way, when there is only ever ONE right answer, you absolve yourself from living life. You tie your hands and stop paying attention. The hard decisions are easy because there is only one way forward in your small ridiculous mind. What a waste of time, what a waste of life.
2011 was the year I died. It was the year that everything was lost. Everything.
20 years of my life, the part which brought about my mid-life crisis, talent and excess, waste and regret so great it was an atomic bomb that laid waste to a good life. I lived through it. The worst year of my life will eventually be the year I stopped accepting bad habits. The year I decided I was too important to settle. The Year that felt like it would kill me, will be the Year that makes me a new and better version of myself.
2012 will start with a plethora of challenges, but I am looking forward to the first year of my life that I work hard and travel on the road. No ditches, just pavement. It may not be straight, in fact I can't possible see how it could be, but the turns in the road can't be as hard to navigate. The ditches are riddled with landmines. They require a compass and a machete, a shovel and a pair of dark glasses so you can't see the way out. Getting out has not been easy, and throwing myself back in takes but a second of lapsed judgement.
2011 I lost friends, it was my fault. I was callous and self-important. I said things that were ridiculous. I felt things that were wrong. I have no defence. I was a bad person. It doesn't matter what I did, what I didn't do, what I thought, what I said out loud. By my own estimation and admission I was just not a good version of myself. By my own standards I was an ass hole. As much as I tried, I couldn't help it, but it doesn't matter.
To everyone who stood by me - I thank you. To everyone who I misunderstood or who misunderstood me I apologise. If I lost things this year then I needed to. There were no gains. I was selfish and mean, indignant and self absorbed, over honest and ignorant to any ones need but my own. I can't take that back now. I have to live with it all, but that's the point isn't it? I have to live with it. I have to think of me. If I don't fix my mistakes now then it will be too late one day, and I'll still be the one who has to live with it.
My amazing, brilliant wife told me that if I wasn't willing to be true to myself, and do whatever I needed to do to make my life the life I wanted, then I was living a lie, and because there were so many other people in my life, that if I was living a lie, then they were living it too, and that would be on me. That's a big sentence. It was a truth so hard to take, a statement so honest, and an admission so brave, I will never cease to be blown away by it. Said at a time of rawness and insanity (on my part). I still to this day cannot recover from the balls-y-ness, and the candour let alone the accuracy. It was when I realized
Here is the only thing I can say for sure:
My wife is the strong one, the gutsy one, and the intelligent one. I think this year she may have learned that I am more of an idiot than she ever imagined. I am weak and over-sensitive, but I try hard to improve every year. She is an amazing person and a great friend, and I haven't deserved her company since the day we met. I will eternally be the lucky one. I am always in a good place, and one I don't deserve, because I share my life with an incredible person. So there it is, and where it goes no one can know...

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