Marriage...

I was sitting besides two buddies, across the booth from my good friend and his newly engaged fiancee in our local truck stop back home. The water was refreshing, the coffee hot as hell while we talked about recent happenings and various thoughts. I moved the subject onto the responsibilities and comparisons at our age level now relative to how it was when our parents were growing up. There seems to be a longer period of shelter, a convinced generation of guardians who believe we aren't ready.

Our conversation made me question where I'm at in my life. I don't feel my age, but I am ready to live it. Sure I'm fairly fixed in my position, continuing studies in a city that I have to say is home due to the fact I've been here for five years now. Little by little, however, my hopes and dreams are trickling into my life. The ones I can control at least.

It brought us to marriage, what it means in our society today. Seems marriage during our parent's lives was still a conventional means to living. Everyone knew the traditions, honored and respected them for the most part. Somehow it became streamlined during the years, individuals began to believe that happiness meant marriage, with a beautiful house, a family to nourish and love, a new car to drive. We all agreed real love, real thoughts and actions of marriage were almost lucky.

I looked at all of the solo truck drivers eating in their booths alone. What does marriage mean to me? I grew up watching my dad model how a loving father behaves. Like him, I have a passion to love, to teach, to learn, to parent...I told myself it was in my blood. I didn't understand at the time, how completely special a REAL marriage and family is unfortunately. My friend's joyous engagement and my recent break up helped me see how the stars align, how destiny, fate, our big nurse etc. has a plan for us. And in the world we live in today, marriage to me is the rare discovery of that part of the plan.

There's too many variables in the world we live in today, it gets to a point where marriage can't simply be for financial stability or a means to having a family. Marriage to me is having a foundation, a friend, a love, who'll be there when you fall down in this variable wilderness. It's a partner in solving this world's distortions. And though I know it's ultimately not in my control, I question my return to living a bullheaded, one track dream. With all of my dreams and hopes, how can I possibly take the time and commitment for a woman especially when I can't expect her to do the same?

It all comes back to believing. Believing that when we you meet the perfect person, you're both willing to tackle the difficulties and work towards your grouped hopes and dreams. And it won't matter if it happens in an evening at a truck stop or several confusing years on a stressful college campus or a lifetime.

We won't know until the end anyway.

My red period...?

"I fuckin' hate white people."- White Boston Celtics fan storming out of a 7/11.

It's like I'm starting all over again, my life. Had a great conversation with the girl, we relaxed and laughed, I gave her a kiss goodbye...could be the last time I see her, I just don't know. And yes, I'm starting over, exactly back where I started it seems. I could so use a direct life changing refresher, but I guess I've gonna have to put on the gloves for that one.

I have ideas.

I'm gathering wood, not for the flame, but to fill my room to force me to whittle.

Certain nights this week had me feeling like I was the smallest spot of dust in Columbus. And that's balogna! It's simply insane how a culture, a city, a people so marinated with isolation could have me floundering like a fish up and down high st. I guess it could be worse, I could be a Boston Celtics fan and hate white people.


F.U.J.F.

I'm Old...and I've Got Hurt Feelings?

It's been such a long time...(hmmm Boston)

You get caught up with the education for your future career, a woman who seeks you out of the pack only to drop it like it's hot in the end, and you pass go, but you're not collecting that two hundred dollars...That's what I've been doing.

What is it about sorrow/somber/sulking that makes people want to write? I started this blog around a break up, and I'm bringing it back with one now too. I swear I'm a happy guy.

It's finals time and I've been in full ball breakin' mode. Having just about gone through two quarters, I've learned a lot in the realms of education, spirituality, community and lifestyle. Of course those recent experiences in my life have helped me clear the path to these understandings, but I'd like to be a bit boastful and say I've finally spun the mirror around in my heart and have become aware of my wants and beliefs through the reflection. I now know that I want the simple life, and no I'm not talking Paris and Nicole. I want to maintain a spiritual side, a global community activist side, a tree choppin' ax side, a ride my bike into the park/woods with guitar and sketchbook in hand side, a happy side.

And that's exactly what those sides create for me: happiness. I feel older knowing this. I feel older looking on and interacting with those I know who don't get it. Who are still caught in the hamster wheel that this world forms around us. Truth be told, I'm not even out of the hamster wheel yet, but I've got my feet on the edge and I know exactly where I'm going to take off running to when I hit the ground.



Ugh

First Week

Not only did I learn Talking Heads' First Week, Last Week...Carefree on guitar, but I finished my first week (and more) at OSU. Boy am I ever jacked.

Have you ever had a first week that meant everything to your existence and continual participation with society? We're talking big change.

I think I did, I still am. My summer was in limbo and I'm here now for something new. In a lot of respects, I'm looking to leave my past at CCAD, to discard what I don't want and hold onto whatever is still dear to me. Needless to say, I'm a bit unbalanced at the moment, which doesn't help with all the free time I have here. I'm pushing for a transformation, but all the pieces haven't arrived yet.

What's stopping you from picking up and leaving everything you have behind to feel alive again?

For me, lots of things. But this idea has been on my mind more and more. I need an extended vacation. I need a prolonged moment where I can organize my thoughts and priorities instead of dealing with them all at once. There's plenty slipping through the cracks, however, I'm becoming more tunnel visioned in the process. A good thing? Depends if you think tunnels are sweet. Maybe it would've happened if I instinctly went before my first week.

If you're happy with your life then move on and go!...Unless of course you're bullshitn'.

Isn't it Sunday? Then where in hell is the Sunday paper, bitches!?



Found these hippies the other day...

New Traditions

I've had an internal ticker in my head, counting down the days to my move back to Columbus, and I'm now a week away. And yes, I've been wearin diapers to counteract the uncontrollable urinatin' about it.

I'm humble and proud to not be contesting my marital status.

Besides a sweet Devo album and motto, what exactly does new traditions mean? I guess I found out this summer, especially of late. I didn't force myself to do something I truly didn't want to do, instead I'm nurturing new concepts and going with the flow. Big changes or small, at this point they're not consuming the person I already am, only accenting. For example, I've wanted to start reading more. Well, I still read when I want to, but now I'm flipping pages between four different books (not simultaneously!). I've just been wanting to draw for fun in a sketchbook, so during breaks at work I eat and compose shapes to doodle from after I've finished my meal. I wanted to get back at playing guitar so of course I strap up the demon anytime I'm bored or feel I need to be doing something else.

I'm not going to roll up my sleeves if I'm not getting dirty.
I'm not going to get dirty if I don't roll up my sleeves though.

On Friday, this past week I got to reaffirm my career decision in studying art education at OSU. I went to my highschool and was given the privileage to direct a critique with three different drawing/painting classes. I wonder how many people/students understand the quickness and decisiveness teachers confront themselves with everyday by simply, well teaching.

The best part about moving back down to Columbus? Knowing that within the day my life will be changing once again, voluntarily or not.



I'm not crazy, just passionate.

Birthdays

A year older, and boy do I ever feel wiser! I get an hour a break so when I'm done stuffing my face with einstein bros. fruit salads, I'm drawing these weirdos. Observation and Imagination take your pick.

Since my last post I asked myself what puts me at awe? I wrote down:

The wind
Human nature
Love

Ask me why...

I wonder if we celebrated every birthday we have just like the ones we had as children, would people generally be happier? I think so, and it should be mandatory that a big get together with your friends happens too. Let's face it though, a lot of people could care less if someone they knew made it another year without dying (especially as they grow more older and bitter). Is that too much twist on reality? Maybe, but we live in a world that promotes twisted realities. I hope there comes a day when the people we care about understand that. Talk about BIG business.

We stream and glide like grocery carts...



"You're free to go, the way is clear."

Fireworks

While steep above the mountain range to gaze,
a cough cuts through the chunky air.
The rocks echo the sound, with birds to sing a chorus in flight ahead.

They bring interest to the clear sky like freckles on the skin.

Turning my tent for the wind undertaking
ripping lightly inside my clothes;
it’s sad believing time will wait, until we see wind that blows forever still.

Make haste! The speed shovels the ground:

a gust to friction clouds of dirt
I lose my weight, my cap, my shirt.
I bridge the gap like a broken spindle
with locomotive heat to kindle.
For lust! Desire to touch thimbles
of leaves, of lands, yes modern symbols.

–AY

I wrote it awhile ago, for an actual poetry class. I like reading it to myself, especially on days when I actually wish for the action to happen. Today was one of those days...helplessly hoping (Thank you CS&N).

Yes, I know people who say fireworks suck.

I cried laughing so hard at this phrase. To me, I think most humans contain an awe for them. Once you've seen and heard fireworks once, there isn't much of an aesthetic pleasure to them anymore, yet you still glare in awe.

Your life could be in shambles: you don't know where you're going, what you'll do when you get there or why you were even put here on this earth. But as you lie on your back and stare up at the familiar organization of lights blowing out and spreading across the sky perfectly each time, you realize one thing...

Mankind has and will continue to adore and master the art of the explosion.

And you end up lying there, loving the life you got.