life again imitating art

My Dad used to tell us that the biggest challenge in watercoloring was convincing yourself to stop.

It struck me recently that the exact opposite is true of getting to the gym.

Ain't life grand?

We can use colors to clash horribly or merge beautifully.

We can use words to express opinions that make people turn ugly and defensive or we can use them to make beautiful poetry or literature.

We can watch a human being walk into a school and rip 17 kids to shreds with bullets and hate and in a matter of minutes, lifetimes will be impacted forever, sometimes in immediate death, sometimes in emotional scars that last a lifetime.

We can look outside and see delicate snowflakes gently floating down to earth juxtaposed against a background of the pink buds of a tree in mid-April bloom.

Thus is the beauty, ugliness and confusion that surrounds us and challenges us everyday.

Not to mention a gift to civilization

Harvey Weinstein probably used to think of himself as God's gift to women. Given all that has happened around the world with the #MeToo movement, I'd have to agree that at great cost to the victims, he was exactly right.

I like to think the left is the feminine side...though i also prefer the feminine back side

Interesting that it's considered a compliment among my female friends to observe that a man seems to be in touch with his feminine side but if a man were to tell a woman that she seems to be in touch with her masculine side, it would be an insult on multiple levels.

Not saying I disagree, just interesting, and a little revealing, about just what is open to interpretation.

And there's the (back?) rub

Wow. 6 months later. And here now, 6 months worth of deep thought:

It seems like women in particular and semi-stereotypically, as opposed to men that is, put a lot of emphasis on judging whether they want to sleep with a man by how he treats her leading up to that decision, when the better test of a man's character is how he treats her after they have slept together.

There's probably a joke that could follow as to having things ass-backward, but that's an image that probably isn't appropriate in this context.

A sense of where I am

They tell us that as we get older, our sight diminishes. Then why do I feel like I see so many more things than I did when I was a boy? The colors, the shadows, the souls of those I love and particularly those I don't.

They tell us that as we get older, our sense of smell diminishes. Then why do I feel like I seem to enjoy the smells of so many more things than I did when I was a boy? The flowers, the honeysuckle and Cheryl's amazing meals cooking on the stove?

They tell us that as we get older, our sense of taste diminishes. Then why do I feel like I seem to enjoy the taste of so many more things than I did when I was a boy? Tastes dramatic and slight, foods exotic and familiar.

They tell us that as we get older, our hearing diminishes. Then why do I feel like I seem to enjoy the sounds of so many more things than I did when I was a boy? The giggling of children, the cutting of a skate blade on ice, the wind blowing through the trees and their leaves gently settling down on the ground.

They tell us that as we get older our senses erode. But I feel like I have a better sense of the glory of all that surrounds me, of how wonderfully lucky I am, the value of the incredible people in my life - friends and family, than I ever have. I value the sounds of silence as much as I do the joy in the voices around me; the sight of a beautiful woman as much as I do the changing colors of the leaves this month; the taste of a good cheesesteak and the subtle seasoning of a pile of truffle fries; and even the touch of or by a fellow human, whether in the throes of passion or a gentle touch on the arm.

Ain't life grand?

Thoughts of Pain and Joy

Somehow, given what happened in Las Vegas Sunday night, it just doesn't seem right to post anything here that doesn't in some way speak to it. Events like that usually take a while to hit me fully. At first when I heard what happened, I had the usual thoughts of "Oh no, not again." And I watched maybe 10 minutes of coverage to get the overall sense of what happened, but then found myself annoyed that my favorite morning show - Morning Joe - had been taken over with this story.

But then, as yesterday wore on, I found myself getting sadder and sadder, just past melancholy (sounds somewhat appropriately like a country music song title).

It's been a bad month or so lately:

- multiple massive hurricanes
- an equally devastating earthquake
- the sudden death of Ted, our good friend of 45ish years, his memorial service/celebration the day before the Las Vegas shooting
- my seeming to too often upset people I love without my always understanding how or why or certainly, intention
- and also sometimes being upset by people in my life, mostly just because I'm too damn sensitive

And now this awful shooting spree. It's hard to know whether to try to look past these things and focus on the many good and positives things in my life and in the world, or whether to stop and feel the pain of those impacted, honoring and validating their losses. And try to do what we can to either help alleviate their pain, or to do what we can to keep them from happening again.

I guess I'll just try to do my best to do all of the above. 

When I got home last night, I had planned to have a drink with Cheryl down by the pool to process all sorts of thoughts about these and many things. But instead I was surprised almost immediately by my awesome niece, Becca and her dad Richard who were here for our friend's life celebration and who I thought had already left.

And so, we all spent the evening in each others' company - Cheryl, me, Becca, Richard, Laurie, our recently deceased friend Ted's son Beau and his girlfriend and a variety of others.

And I am reminded of the value and importance and primacy of the need to surround ourselves with those we love as frequently as possible. And feel the pain, and laugh and revel in our joys, and try to do better every single day.