Question of the week

Question: “Do you think you are clearer after being sick because being sick forced you out of some habits?” (Courtesy: Otto)

Answer: Yes.

The conduit between inspiration and myself is more open that it’s been in a very long time. But illness always causes me to shut down and run on reserves, which allows for a kind of mental sloughing. My only concern during those times is getting better. I wash away any stressful thoughts with the cathode ray. When I can find something like a “Law and Order: SVU” marathon, I’m all good.

But this particular spell was augmented by my recent trip home.

One of the aspects of home that has always appealed to me (even more so now) is the relative isolation, peace and quiet. Some look at it as desolation and hopelessness, and there’s some of that, too.

But the wide-open urban space, coupled with a decided lack of humanity, creates a landscape that sings to me with a pretty song.

I can imagine how it used to be, years before I existed. When those streets teemed with life, energy, and hope. I dream of what they can become in the future, and the possibilities are truly endless. I get kind of sad when I realize there’s a good chance those possibilities will materialize too far in the future for any of us to savor.

The people that do remain are quite the fascinating collection. I’m particularly attracted to the women (imagine that)—there’s a steely kind of resolve there I rarely experience anymore--but not at the expense of their femininity. If anything, they amplify their sexuality in a kind of reaction to the bleakness of the environment.


Which is why I’m returning for another long weekend there for the Thanksgiving holiday. That’s also the weekend where a certain personal project I’ve been avoiding for far too long will begin in earnest. The goal is to have a finished product in my hands by the end of the year. It’s been honed down to one of three projects, actually. I’m going to let time reveal to me which one is the first to fall. That’s exciting.

But the rather consistent lack of cultural stimulation (unless you really search for it) creates a blank canvas on which it’s easy to draw up something original. I feel like I get so much done there, and fast.

I have entertained the notion of returning there for an extended period of time, but not quite yet. I could definitely see hunkering down for a spell and really getting to work.

But for right now, I’m making good time in the rat race of L.A. It’s been a bitch of a fight, but I’ve actually carved out a nice little place for myself here.

Still, I look around and see faint outlines of what my environment should really look like right now. I’m realizing to bring those fuzzy images into focus is going to require discipline, determination and simply doing the work.


But I am up to challenge. This is what life is all about (for me, anyway). I’ve been training for and working towards this moment my entire life.

Nervous, excited, and kind of anxious. All good signs.