NYC Nights

Formika & me NYE 1999-2000

Wow!!  It's been a really long time since I wrote anything and I was feeling the itch to communicate.  I recently was going through old photos - I have a huge trunk full of photos from the 90s and early 2000s, in those days I was never without my Yashica T4 camera and a ton of film.  I pretty much documented my life and the awesome NYC club scene, opposite of the paparazzi I was an invited guest, part of the scene and everyone mugged appropriately for me.  I only went through 4 envelopes of over 300 and I started dividing the photos into groups to send to friends.  Back then I always got doubles and now I have a treasure trove - 1 for me and 1 for you.
     I separted the photos by people and made about 5 stacks that represented some of my closest and most glamorous friends.  The whole time walking down memory lane and being so in those moments again.  I was laughing at how wild we all were and how outrageous and awesome our style was.  I have to say I was pretty impressed I thought we all looked amazing and no one looked glum.  I suppose in those days if you were down you either stayed home or masked it with a ton of booze and powders.  I had an absolute blast stuffing the photos into cards and mailing them off to the friends that were portrayed in them.  These days no one gets mail and certainly no one gets actual photos any longer.  Everything is fast and disposable and then gone.  In an instant (Instagram) the moment is captured and forgotten - no keepsakes in this digital age.
     My dear friend Mistress Formika who ruled the downtown scene back them in stilettos and sky high wigs texted to say he had gotten the photos.  He too was impressed with how wild we were and how the kids these days have no idea what our NYC was like - believe me it is NSFW the places we ran and the things we did there.  One photo in particular of the 2 of us in The Voluptuous Horror Of Karen Black makeup - he painted all white and totally nude and me painted all black with my teeth blacked out and huge white wings around my eyes - really stood out.  If you don't know Karen Black was and still is sometimes the sickest band.  Juvenile cardboard props and dancers performing fright wig kabuki theater to a soundtrack of punky-metal music.  I knew the photo was from the late 1990s but couldn't remember exactly when.  Formika reminded me in was New Year's Eve 1999 into 2000 and all of the sudden the entire night flooded back to me like it was yesterday.
     We were performing at the stroke of midnight with TVHOKB at CBGBs which is now a John Varvatos store.  In fact, The Bowery used to be derelicts, homeless shelters and artists lofts like Nan Goldin and now it's the chic-est street with the most expensive hotels and boutiques.  We got ready across the street at our friend Scott's loft then walked across to CBGBs, Formika totally nude on NYE!!!  It really struck me that I performed at that legendary place!! I mean The Ramones and Blondie and Patti Smith and so many more got their start there and here we were on that very stage nude or mostly nude except for body paint and wigs ringing in the new millennium.  I mean, now that I look back that's fucking legendary and I had totally forgotten all about it.
     The night only began there I mean NYE in the city-that-never-sleeps literally goes on forever.  After the show I ran to my friend Drea DeMateo's house on 2nd Ave between 7th and St Mark's place which, drastically, exploded and burned to the ground last year!!!  I arrived at her house totally painted black looking insane and amazing - always the life of the party.  I hung out for a few hours then jumped in the shower and changed and hightailed it to The Cock to bartend the late late late shift which was like 4am - 8am or so.  Man, those were the days when we packed more into one night than some people do in a lifetime.  We had no idea how amazing and crazy our lives were.  I mean, we had fun but we didn't really know how magical it was.  So many nights were just as legendary as that one.
     I still like to live my life under the guise of the best is yet to come.  I never want to think that my glory days are gone or the the magic has stopped.  Things are different now and, unfortunately, all of my friends no longer live in a 10 block radius.  I'm older and not so wild but I still seek beauty and glitter and magic and love.  The world will always be filled with creativity and no crappy government can trump that out of us artists!!! I believe in magic and I always will.

NYC

Times Square Kiss (w/Prince in the background)

New York I love you.  I love you but you've changed.  The energy of NYC - eclectic and electric will never change, that's a constant.  No matter how many crappy new NYU buildings go up the palpable & alluring energy of the city is there to stay.  Sure, there are still tons of artists and freaks living downtown but there's a frigging 7-Eleven on Ave. A.  AVENUE A (THIS IS AN ALL CAPS MOMENT PEOPLE)!!!!!  I mean, I moved to the East Village in 1992 and for many I'm sure it was already over then but there were still junkies and prostitutes on the streets.  I liked it better when it was still dangerous to cross Ave. C.  I felt more at home with the junkies and pimps and whores and street urchins than I do with frat boys and clusters of girls walking in a horizontal line down the middle of the sidewalk clucking like chickens but believing they are Carrie Bradshaw.
     I had the absolute pleasure of taking my boyfriend to NYC for his 1st ever visit.  If you've never been to NYC with someone who has never been to NYC then I suggest you try it.  I could see the magic and excitement in his eyes from the moment we set foot on the filthy sidewalks of downtown until the cab back to JFK.  He was practically Mary Tyler Moore-ing his way through the streets,  tossing his hat up in the air and twirling about.  We even went to Times Square solely for the purpose of getting a kiss photo with the backdrop of a million watts of light bulbs flaring.  It was intoxicating to see him revel in the electricity of the city.
     Of course, we were on vacation and everything is more alluring when you have no agenda or commitments except seeing friends perform and socializing.  The main point of visiting at the time we did was to see the reunion of two of my favorite performers of all time Kiki & Herb.  My entire time in NYC could be told using Kiki & Herb shows as a backdrop to my experiences.  I'd seen them perform everywhere from the now obsolete Flaming East all the way up to a sold out show at Carnegie Hall!  Under the guise of two old washed up boozy cabaret performers who seem clueless about life is the sharp and pointed social commentary of 2 extremely intelligent and seasoned performers.  They tackle social issues by telling their fictionalized life story peppered with popular songs from all eras.  Mx Justin Vivian Bond is the well endowed Chanteuse Kiki,  and Kenny Mellman is her gay Jew tard (their description, it's like when black people use the "N" word)  piano accompaniment.  It's genius performance on all levels.  Jacob got to see them for the 1st time and I got to see them for the millionth but it was as if absolutely no time had passed since their last show.
     That's kind of how it feels to me to be back in NYC - it's as if no time had passed at all.  Connecting with true friends always feels like that, you pick up exactly where you left off last and there's never any weirdness stepping right back into those roles.  The only real evidence of time passing is the presence of new businesses and the disappearance of old ones.  Things like the fucking 7-Eleven on the corner in my old hood is a sharp slap on the face reminding us that time has, in fact, passed.  Kind of like when you're always with your friends and you feel like you've all always looked the same and then you see a photo from 1992 and you're like "DAMN!! I guess we don't really look like kids anymore!"
     NYC I will always love you.  It's been nice to be on the West Coast the past decade and to know that no matter what happens the streets of NYC will always feel like home.  In NYC I have the confidence of a native strutting around the neighborhood that I know like the back of my hand despite the appearance of some blemishes and scars that may not have been there before.  Perhaps I'll live there again one day, I'm certainly not the kind of person who could stay in the same spot my whole life.  I know NYC and it's energy will always be there and I will always be able to slip right into the current of it.

Fantasy

Bette Davis & Marilyn Monroe "All About Eve" 1950

For as long as I can remember I've always wanted to escape.  I've never felt 100% comfortable living in actual reality - I craved glamour, fantasy, the silver screen.  When I was in elementary school I would get the TV guide over the weekend and I would scan it for Bette Davis and Marilyn Monroe movies.  If there happened to be a marathon on TV one day I would plan to feign sickness so I could stay home from school and binge watch - already a perfect little performer at age 7, 8 or 9!  I'm not even sure how I knew about these glamorous woman whose star's shined many, many decades before my time.  I was even obsessed with Zsa Zsa Gabor who was not exactly a household name in Schenectady, NY.
     I think this desire was always a part of me although it was greatly enhanced once I started going to school.  I immediately learned that the world was not all puppies and coloring books once I had to mingle with the general population on a daily basis.  I went to an alternative school up until 4th grade and even so the kids were beyond cruel.  They hurled a barrage of nasty words at me that I had never, ever heard before and it was shocking and very upsetting.  I was different simply because I didn't like or know a damn thing about sports and my friends were mostly girls.  That shit ain't cool to red-blooded, suburban boys at all.  I understood quickly that I didn't fit in and that I had to get outta Dodge ASAP.
     To this day I get stressed out and bogged down by the mundane.  Dealing with taxes, and bills, and insurance companies and all the unnecessarily annoying and complicated red-tape that the modern world procures.  I cannot even begin to tell you of the absurdity that I am dealing with as the result of my car accident.  It's been 6 weeks and not only is there no resolution in sight it's like the whole process is inside out and moving backwards.  Six weeks in Los Angeles with no car is like being lost in a desert with no water and racing toward mirages that evaporate as soon as you approach.  It ain't easy! These corporate types and insurance brokers are making me feel like I'm in 2nd grade again, it's like talking to 6 year olds.
     Thankfully, I have surrounded myself with beautiful, creative people who think and live outside of the box.  I don't understand the ways of the world and quite frankly I do not wish to.  I do not want to lower myself to the level where something like an insurance claim makes perfect sense to me.  NO THANK YOU.  I will stay up here in the glowing ether blowing kisses in the wind whilst dressed in my finest evening splendor like Marilyn Monroe standing over that subway grate in The Seven Year Itch.  Furthermore, I will flick my cigarette in the face of the insurance companies and tell them to go where the sun don't shine like Bette Davis on any given day.

Crash

Join the car crash set

In life you never know what may hit you. Usually, one is speaking metaphorically in this way yet, unfortunately, I am speaking quite literally. Driving home from shopping on Feb. 13th I was hit, hard in my newly refurbished, sweet, vintage car by a woman backing out of her driveway in a rather posh neighborhood.  For a split second I had no idea what happened - did I hit someone, did a tree fall on me, was there an earthquake?  When my car came to a stop I realized I had been hit.  I stepped out of my car afraid to see the damage and totally shaken up.  The car was a mess.
     The woman was leaving her own house but she was driving a friend's car.  I didn't think much of itat the time but this alone has caused a world of complications and stress.  I wasn't too badly hurt - no broken limbs or blood but I do need a full year of chiropractic care since my neck and back got wrenched and are both really stiff and sore.  I already had to get a lawyer because of the issues with 3 separate insurance companies and they are claiming it's my fault even though anyone looking at my car can clearly see from the angle of the damage that I was hit.  It's pretty much a nightmare and I've been really stressed out despite trying to keep my blessings in plain sight.  Try living a busy life in LA without a car, it ain't easy.  I'm hoping any day now my lawyer will sort this out and get them to issue me a rental car.
     It's funny when shit hits the fan I always tend to default to the "I am not equipped to handle this mode" but, as it turns out, I did all the right things given my lack of experience in such matters.  I mean, who the hell really wants to be an expert in maneuvering around a terrible car accident?!  My chiropractor is amazing and going to him is the only thing that actually alleviates my uncomfortability but it take me an hour each way to get to him - please note he's 12 miles away and that's how rotten LA traffic is at any given moment.  So, I have a long haul in front of me since I need a full year of treatment to get well again.  Hopefully, I will have my own wheels again soon so I don't go mad trying to get around.  Oh, and to add to the Hollywood-ness of this event the driver just happens to be the wife of a very famous TV actor.  Only in LA.
     I had set out that day with the most unselfish of intentions.  I was going out to buy a Valentine's Day gift for my honey and I was so excited because, as usual, I found the most perfect thing.  So many things ran through my mind like why did I turn on that street, why did I change my mind about the store I chose to go to, and why did I even bother leaving the house?  Of course, these are things that are all way beyond my control and the "what ifs" can literally drive you crazy if you let them.  If only in the immortal words of Cher I could turn back time - yeah, yeah, yeah I'm gay, so sue me.  Actually, don't I'll be doing the suing this time.
     On the other side of all this hassle and annoyance is the fact that I'm still in one piece as is the other driver.  No one was in the car with me for surely if they were they'd be much more hurt than I was.  I still have my happy house with my beautiful boyfriend and my 2 little doggies and all of them love me a lot.  That's all that really matters right?  Love.  Don't all the best songs and poetry tell us that?!  I guess it's human to have deal with this kind of shit especially in this modern world.  Sometimes I wish I could simply be an emotionless robot that is incapable of computing stress and feeling - sure would be easier not to mention the never having to go to the bathroom thing.  Alas, I am what I am and if I was a less emotional sort my stories wouldn't be as entertaining.

Youth & Beauty

John Waters, 2008

Over Christmas I had an amazing conversation with a friend of my mom's that has stuck with me.  She's a much older woman who was spunky and funny and had me laughing the whole time.  I loved her long, red lacquered nails and her tales of being a crazy old cat lady whose house is over run by a dictatorship of cats in which she is merely a tenant! We were talking about age and I mentioned that my mom would be 70 this year.  She said she wished she was only turning 70 and that life really does speed by.  She told me that when she was a young and driven career woman (real estate) in her power suit that she thought she had everything all figured out and that she'd always be on top of her game.  At the time she met a much older woman that told her you will never be as young and strong as you are right now and that life goes by fast so don't take it for granted.  She thought the woman foolish but now in hindsight she sees the woman was right.

     That conversation has always stuck with her as I'm sure her re-telling of it will always stick with me.  Age, it's a very funny thing.  Of course, lifestyle completely dictates how age effects you.  The most beautiful people I meet are the one's whose inner radiance shines out.  People that are beautiful inside are always beautiful on the outside too even if they don't look like Cindy Crawford or Brad Pitt.  Still, the body does break down eventually and there is no real fountain of youth.  The people you see that are obsessed with staying young on the outside usually resort to procedures that leave them looking not young but insane.  Like we all knew exactly how old Joan Rivers was and her surgeries only made her look like a crazy puppet but not any younger.  To each their own though and if that fulfilled some need inside her then so be it.

     I am lucky that my metabolism and my genes are strong - there is so much longevity on both sides of my family, even the crazy alcoholics live into their 90's.  That being said I also try and have fun in my life and maintain a childlike wonder with the world.  Sure, I have my days were my moods take over and I wear jealous or bitter colored shades but, luckily, those moments pass and I am able to see beauty in the world, my world, again.  Perhaps, it's because I know some deep, down and dirty hardships and I was able to emerge from them with not only surviving but also thriving.  Maybe the intense pain I have felt in life has made me aware of and more capable of feeling and noticing the joy and happiness as well.

     People are always shocked when I tell them that I'm 45.  In fact, I've had to procure my driver's license on occasion to prove my point.  I mean, why anyone who's not 16 would lie upwardly about their age is beyond me but I ain't got no shame in my game.  I've said it before but I operate under the philosophy that the best is yet to come.  At no point in my life do I ever want to be the type of person who thinks his glory days are behind him.  That is too depressing.  John Waters always says that you should never trust anyone who thinks of high school as their golden years.  I say AMEN & PRAISE BOWIE to that!!  Speaking of which we are going to see John Waters live tonight doing one of his hysterical and poignant lectures.  He's a prime example of someone who is aging well.  He doesn't look 20 and why should he he's 69 and he looks fab in his Comme Des Garçons suits.  He's witty and wise and his tongue is no less sharp than it's ever been.  I think that always moving forward and laughing at one's self as you're doing it is what keeps us vital and vibrant and young at heart.  This is a filthy fucking world but as long as you can recognize the shit you can appreciate the beauty of the rose as well.

Emotional Rescue

Johnny Depp from "The Lone Ranger" 2013

Have you ever wished you could go back in time and make different choices?  For sure every human that has ever lived has entertained such thoughts.  We have all had grandiose fantasies of, say, going back to pre-war Germany and assassinating Hitler.  But on a more personal level what if we could go back and make a more subtle change?  Take a slightly different path like in one of those children's novels where you flip ahead to a certain chapter depending on which road you choose and each has a completely different ending.
     I was never one of those kids that always knew exactly what I wanted "to be" when I grew up.  Sure, at age 6 I thought I'd be a veterinarian simply because I loved animals so much.  I'm pretty sure most kids had the same thought at one point - at least the girls and the gay boys did.  My life as a child was so fraught with deep and intense emotional turmoil that I really didn't have time to imagine my future.  It was such an insurmountable task just to make it through each day without completely unraveling.  I was so horribly bullied and tortured by other kids that my inner life was like World War 3 all day long.  I don't say this to illicit sympathy but just to paint a picture of what my youth was like.  My inner war was so intense that it caused me to double over in pain in the middle of class as I was constantly stricken with a "ghost" illness that could never be properly diagnosed and was always improperly treated.  I consumed an unearthly amount of prescription Mylanta as a child - the chalky thickness of that liquid is something I can still taste if I think about it for too long.
     Because of the seemingly never ending, gut wrenching pain that I was in I started very early on to look for my own remedy.  Something that would save me from what ultimately was myself.  I got temporary relief from sugar and it gave me a rush to steal candy as often as I could.  I also used to spend hours after middle school in the local arcade and, that too, was a good escape from reality.  Really, anything that let me live outside of myself was welcomed with open arms so it was no surprise that I turned to booze as soon as I found out what it did to my inner (& outer) world.  It soothed  the pain, eliminated the grief and let me become an extroverted version of my shut down, depressed and gloomy child self.  Of course, I eventually graduated to the hard stuff and once I found heroin it pretty much was the end of the line.  I was off to the races and THANK BOWIE (I have decided to permanently name the deity I pray to after the one and only David Bowie) I got sober before someone had to pick out my casket!
     Even in sobriety I was still constantly looking to be rescued.  I carried this Disney-fied idea in my head that someday MY prince would also come and whisk me away gallantly on his beautiful, muscular steed and together we would ride off into the sunset and live in a beautiful castle on a hill.  For a young, rebellious, goth-y gay boy from Schenectady that took pride in living on the fringe I still was riddled with this BS societal fairy tale about being rescued.  Part of it came from an unwillingness to take responsibility for my own happiness, which, honestly, I didn't know was possible for many years.  I knew that the circumstances in my childhood that lead to such deep & troubling emotional pain were not my fault but I also, falsely, thought that the world owed me everything because of it.  Another grandiose, spoiled, yet not uncommon belief.
     I finally had an epiphany after almost 4 years of amazing, terrifying, and life-changing group therapy that I WAS the prince on the white horse!  I was the only man that could and would truly resuce myself.  I spent decades looking outside of myself for something that was inside me all along. I call that situation standing on one's (G)spot - it's like when you are searching everywhere for the sunglasses that are on top of your head.  If you are standing on your own spot then you can't see it and will never find it.  All off this seems like "New Age 101" or "Self-Help For Dummies" but it caused an amazingly intense and glorious shift within my self.  Once I realized that I could be my own hero and resuce my own damn self it left me open to truly learn how to love.  1st to love myself then to love others and let them truly love me.
     Now, I'm quite certain I wouldn't go back in time or if I could I wouldn't change a damn thing except, perhaps, buying certain concert tickets, ha.  Taking responsibility for my own happiness and well-being is the best and most beautiful lesson I have ever learned.  Sometimes I don't do a great job of it and I let myself be down n the dumps for a little while.  But, for the most part I feel like the luckiest guy alive and I know that love is the only rescue.

Goodbye

Souls Rising by Angeline of the Art Matènwa collective, 2010

Death is inevitable.  It happens to the worst and, unfortunately, the best of us.  It cannot be avoided and it is a common denominator of the experience of life.  Why then does it seem certain times are plagued with an onslaught of people crossing over?  Are there really times (war not included) when there is more death than others or do we simply notice it more when it touches us personally?  2016 so far has been one of those times when it seems like the grim reaper is leerily waiting around each and every corner.
     Perhaps, we are collectively hopeful and positive when we pass into a new year.  It's a beginning, a fresh start, a single step onto a year long path that leads to a place where the streets are yet unnamed and the possibilities are endless.  We make resolutions and promises and set goals and try to bring a newfound excitement and joy onto this path that, hopefully, leads to an actual Emerald City.  So, when death clobbers us repeatably over the head with its gnarled claw grasping a fatal hammer it startles us.  It seems heavier, darker and more tragic.  Like, for instance, when someone dies in a brutal and icy collision on Xmas Eve it somehow seems so much worse than if it happened on a lone Wednesday in February.  Really, it is no better or worse on any given day but it is definitely more noticeable near a holiday.
     It isn't just people in the public eye - Lemmy, David Bowie, Angus Scrimm, Natalie Cole, Alan Rickman, Glenn Frey, Dale Griffin - but also a dear friend's mom, another dear friend's longtime associate and the list goes on.  To quote the Butthole Surfers "strangers die everyday."  Callous perhaps or maybe just pragmatic and true.  This world is overloaded with billions of people so thousands must pass every day, it's just statistics and, well, life.  Obviously, David Bowie has hit me the hardest and as I write this I am actually pretty numb still.  His death was very unexpected to me and most people except his closest loved ones.  He is the most iconic figure to ever leave this planet while I am on it.
     It does seem that 69 is the most common number amongst a lot of these deaths.  Sure beats the ripe ol' age of 29 that seemed to be the (un)lucky number for so many rock stars of yore - Janis, Jimi, Jim, Kurt.  I saw Patti Smith perform her legendary album "Horses" in its glorious entirety a few weeks back and, she too, is 69.  Doesn't seem like she's going anywhere any time soon and she also didn't seem old.  She's still rocking out and spitting on stage in true and original CBGB's style.  69 is too young to go but no one can ever accuse Lemmy and Bowie of not living life to it's fullest.
     The most grievous and heartbreaking loss that I have experienced in my life was my beautiful Grandma Molly.  She was the coolest, healthiest, most open minded and spiritual person I have ever known.  Health was her #1 priority and she spent a huge percentage of her time preparing her meals, sourcing perfect ingredients, finding the right combinations and taking the essential vitamins.  She made her own sunflower milk decades before you could buy Silk at every local store.  The news that she had cancer hit us all so profoundly - her the most I imagine.  It made no sense, nothing she did in her life was carcinogenic except, perhaps, living in NYC.  She was 92 when she passed which is, by NO means, young but I think (unfairly to her & ourselves) we imagined her immortal.  I have had this conversation many times with my Mom and we have come to the conclusion that since cancer was, inevitably, the thing that would take her out of this life that most likely it would have happened at 52 or 62 if she had eaten fast food on a regular basis.  My point being that she actually did prolong her life by many, many years by sustaining a lifestyle that was kind and gentle on the body, mind and soul.  My eyes are welling up with tears as I type this because I miss her everyday yet still feel so blessed that I had a such a strong role model that was literally in my life and not just on a record sleeve.

Kooks

David Bowie's "Hunky Dory" 1971

David Bowie does not belong to me.  In fact, I never even had the chance to meet him.  Still, upon hearing of his death, seemingly out of the blue and completely unexpectedly, the other night I had a visceral reaction.  I felt as though I had been kicked in the gut and yet strangely numb at the same time.   How can someone who's technically a stranger have such a deep and everlasting impact on my life?  How does one describe or even truly understand an icon of this magnitude?  What is it about David Bowie that speaks so directly to my soul?
     There are those moments in my life when things just clicked.  Moments when all time and space came together in one swirling tornado of feeling and being.  Moments when I was 100% certain that everything would be alright.  One of those moments came from listening to my 1st David Bowie album.  Sure, his music decorated the soundtrack of my youth with his radio hits being the confetti on the cake of my childhood.  Songs like "Let's Dance" and "China Girl" were prolific and, of course, I knew them by heart but I had not yet connected the dots of the mind-blowingly genius timeline of his life.  So, the day I bought a copy of "Hunky Dory" more than a decade after its release and brought it home my life would be forever altered.  The cover alone was enough to make me question everything I had ever heard or seen about gender and sexuality.  I knew I was gay, I knew society deemed this as wrong and I knew that I loved to dress up and look different than the people that walked the streets in my school and hometown.   When I put on this record and heard those gorgeous melodies and poetic verses I realized that I was not the only one who didn't feel like a cookie-cutter mall employee.  I wasn't the only kook out there!
     "Discovering" Bowie is like finding the holy grail of the underground.  It's like tapping into a consciousness that up until that moment I had thought was a solitary and private way of thinking.  Hearing "Hunky Dory" in all it's timeless glory was like opening a giant box full of glittering treasure and sailing away on a magic carpet of color and emotion.  The dull grey existence that I was faced with in upstate NY in the 1980's was suddenly transformed to a flashing rainbow like I had fallen down the rabbit hole and landed in Oz (my blog so I can mix up as many metaphors as I like!).
     In my teenage Moonage Daydream David Bowie was my father.  In many ways I actually learned way more about who and how I wanted to be from Bowie than I did from my actual dad.  My dad was like a roadmap of how I didn't want to be whilst Bowie was a blueprint of a magical life that I could be my own architect of.  He was beyond gender and sexuality and was more like a glorious alien being that could be or become anything he fancied.  Of course, Bowie belongs to the stratosphere.  He belongs to the cosmos and to the universe and, therefore, he is many, many different things to millions of people.  That is part of his absolute wizardry - the godlike chameleon that speaks a different language to each person that listens.
     So far in my life this has been the biggest loss of public persona.  When Elvis died I saw my father cry for the 1st time and it broke my heart.  When John Lennon died I saw my Mom weep for his untimely loss.  I understood at a young age how these larger than life figures can unite and bond people and societies together.  Perhaps that is the ultimate goal of art to break down all barriers and unite people in the process?! All of that being said David Bowie was my personal hero and, luckily, I will have his music to guide and comfort me until my time is up too.

Birthday

Baby G in Schenectady, 1971

Seeing as my birthday is Monday, Oct. 26 I figured it was a good time to reflect on the past year.  Almost exactly 1 year ago there was a fire at my job at High Voltage Tattoo.  It seemed, at the time, like it was the end of an era and that I'd have to embark on a new journey of, gulp, job searching.  Never been my forte.  I made a few resumes and applied for a few interesting jobs and even had an interview for a very high-end clothing store.  I didn't really want to be looking for another job but I wasn't sure when and if i'd have a job at High Voltage - if it would ever reopen.  

    As luck or fate or destiny or all of the above would have it we were able to stay open at our space next door and, really, I was only out of work for a very short time which I treated like a summer vacation.  The actual shop is just about to be finished being renovated and it looks so friggin beautiful I cannot wait until I go to work everyday in that space.  Luckily, the high-end clothing store didn't pan out because no one really wanted me to leave, nor did I.  I am blessed with a large amount of freedom that my job affords me.  Freedom I would never have in a corporate environment.  I am able to go away whenever I want and even leave work to run to an audition - it's pretty awesome.  I even booked an awesome Slim Jim commercial which is currently airing.  It was a super fun job and the 1st commercial I booked in a while - hopefully, the start of many more bookings.

     Unexpectedly, the year started out with me falling in love with someone 1/2 my age that I met on the interweb.  I broke all my own rules with this one but it taught me a valuable lesson - rules are for chumps. LOL.  Really, though, never say never because I stated out loud after my last break up that I would NEVER do a lot of stuff and I had to eat most of those words (at least words have no carbs or calories.)  This relationship is the opposite of my last one in all of the best ways.  There's a level of intimacy and passion that I was lacking for a very long time.  The kind of intimacy that I craved even though it scared me senseless.  It's hard to admit or even realize that we are the authors of our own destiny and all those jillion years when I was single and miserable I was unable to see the cause - me.  It's hard to work on yourself and to look at the past and see how it affects the future.  Hard but necessary to progress and to free yourself from the baggage that weighs you down.  The good news is that it's always possible and never too late to make positive changes in life.  That's one of the beauties of being human.

     A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of seeing Grace Jones at The Hollywood Bowl for the 2nd time.  She is an astounding and gorgeous force of nature and a true inspiration.  Sexier and wilder and more fashionable than ever and she's somewhere between 60 & 70 - she states in her new biography that even she doesn't know her exact age and also that she doesn't care.  Who says we have to slow down and give up as we age?!  Those are some archaic and outdated ideas for sure.  I will be 45 but I feel like in 25 most days - except when I have to wake up 2 times a night to pee which is the only post 40 thing that I have noticed!!  On good days I still look 32 also - at least that's what my "people" say, hahaha.  People love and respect Grace Jones for who she is & she has never wavered or shrunk away from expressing herself,  All I know is that after that show I have totally redefined my definition of 'aging Grace-fully!"

Stay Weird

Dressed as a Cockette for Halloween, 2014

I've always been a weird kid.  Well, maybe, way back in the beginning (like 300 BC) when I was born I was a normal kid.  I enjoyed bike-riding, skateboarding, climbing trees, drawing, painting, playing dress up, putting on shows for friends and family - ya know, normal kid stuff.  It wasn't until I got to school, more specifically 1st grade that people started to let me know I was different.  I never watched, participated in, or enjoyed sports and worst of all, OMG, wait for it...I was friends with girls!
     I even went to an alternative school where all the grades were combined and we called the teachers by their 1st names and did things like make our own root beer and put on Renaissance Faires.  Still, the taunting and teasing began in 1st grade.  I think it was because there were kids from 1st - 11th grade in the same class which even in some hippie utopia is a recipe for disaster.  The older guys started calling me fag, gay-bait, queer-bait, homo - all those lovely labels - long before I even knew what they were talking about.  It was pretty clear that I was different and what that meant to most people was bad, no good, deserving of punishment.
     The thing about verbal abuse is that it's the worst kind - it's effects last much longer than a black eye or bruised rib.  Physical pain is forgotten but those words echoed in my brain for most of my life. I'm not sure how I had the wherewithall to make it through each school day when it was literally torture for me.  I internalized most of my pain and it came out in destructive ways like vandalism and shop lifting when I was really young and then drugs and alcohol when I was older.  Somehow I managed not to commit suicide or shoot up my school and then by the time I got to college I was fully flying my freak flag as high as it would soar.
     I contemplated death often as a youth and became obsessed with dark stuff - music, literature, art, clothing.  That's not necessarily a bad thing as it got me through my most painful moments and also allowed me to know there were others of my ilk out there in the stratosphere somewhere.  Embracing my darkness let me appreciate the light later on in life and now I giggle at my morbid humor.  For sure the main reason why I never really attempted suicide was my mom.  I didn't give a shit about my self but I couldn't bear to do something that awful to my mom - she could never live with that pain and I saw the selfishness in that act.
     I often fantasized about killing all my classmates - not so much with a gun as that wasn't really a thing in the 70's but when I saw "Carrie" I was like "Oh yeah - that's the shit right there!!!!" If only I could inflict the torture back on the culprits with just my mind!!  I don't even think I could have got my hands on a gun when I was a teen although I did see one once in the gym locker room in 11th grade.  I always picked a locker way deep in the corner of the last row of lockers in the boy's dressing room to avoid all the kids I hated.  There was a guy that looked and seemed to be about 20 that was still in my class and one day I accidentally say him placing a hand gun into his locker.  He calmly looked at me and said " I KNOW you're never gonna tell anyone what you just saw" and I immediately shook my head "no" and scurried away.
     Anyway,  now I love the things that make me different.  I embrace the odd and unusual and love to appreciate things I don't understand.  Who the hell wants to be "normal" anyway and what exactly does that mean??  Anything is normal if that's what you love.  As long as you're not hurting others or preachily trying to inflict your views on others then do what thou whilst.  I say stay weird and eventually you will be loved and appreciated for it.






   

Mogadishu

Photo I took in Kenya in 1989

I had the rare and exotic opportunity to go to Mogadishu, Somalia - twice!  My Mom and step father moved there for 2 years for work just as I was going off to college in the fall of 1988.  The 1st time I went was a summer trip with my grandma and my 2 step sisters.  We traveled from NY to Cairo spent some time there then went off to a fabulous safari in Kenya.  After that we all headed to Mogadishu where we spent the rest of our trip.

     The timing of our travels wasn't great because Somalia which was plagued for centuries with civil unrest was, yet again, besieged in tribal war.  The fighting had made it's way into the capitol and our trip was thus doomed with a national curfew.  We were all pent up in the house from sundown to sunup, 3 antsy teenagers and 3 restless adults.  We got pretty stir crazy and even though our trip prior to Somalia was exotic and adventurous we were all bored to tears, and, also, sorta fearing for our lives.
     The next summer when the opportunity to go back arose I was the only one crazy enough or perhaps adventurous enough to go back.  This time I spent the whole summer there and got a weird job at the USAID offices setting up a document library in a shack like building filled with unorganized files and books.  It was perfect, I got paid to be alone all day surrounded by volumes of reading materials.
     To say going to Somalia was an eye opening experience is the understatement of the year.  No where on earth could be more of a polar opposite from Schenectady, NY.  At that point in my life I had never been to a Third World country and, certainly, Somalia has zero tourism - it does not top anyone's "must visit" list.  I fancied myself a very worldly chap in the late 80's, I had exotic hair and listened to music I was certain no one else knew of except my friends and I.  That being said there are some realities of life in Suburbia that don't lend themselves to truly understanding how others live.  For instance, it had NEVER occurred to me that it's not possible everywhere on earth to run to a convenient store if you desired a snack.  Sounds pompous but, really, it never crossed my mind that some places don't even have stores.  That simple observation changed my whole perspective on life.
     Mogadishu was lucky if the electricity worked on a daily basis.  Surely, most of the natives Somalians didn't even have electricity or running water and in our neighborhood - next to the other expats and dignitaries from around the globe - it was dodgy at best.  Also, in order to eat any fruit or produce locally grown we had to soak it in a 1% bleach solution due to the fact that human waste was used for fertilizer.  How would a new wave suburban boy ever know these things without experiencing them 1st hand? "Not taught in schools" could have been the theme to our trip.  I also had never, ever, EVER heard of female circumcision and I was horrified, shocked and utterly dismayed to find out that was a common practice in Somalia.  That subject is for a whole other blog - someday, maybe, I could muster up the gumption to write more about it.  Let's just say it's way worse and more barbaric than it sounds.
     One of my fondest and most vivid memories is of sitting on my parents roof in late afternoon reading books.  I found it highly prophetic that I was reading "The Temple Of My Familiar" by Alice Walker while sitting high up with a view of the whole city in East Africa.  As I read the book, which weaves a fantastical & magical tale taking place partially in Africa, I smelled the charcoal of the city wafting up to my nose.  There were no real restaurants but the locals would set up little straw huts with grills all over the streets cooking food with a very rich and distinctive smokey aroma.  I would also hear the meditative and ghostly call to prayer from the several large mosques in this primarily Muslim country.  The sounds made eerie by the outdated PA systems that they used creating a tinny and echo-y effect that made it seem as if it were coming from another time and dimension.
     I will never forget my time spent in Somalia as it literally expanded my horizons far beyond any experience I had ever had at that point.  One of the reasons why I think traveling is essential is because it forces the brain to see and experience things that are normally out of the realm of possibility.  It heightens all of your senses when you walk down a street in a foreign land.  The eyes see more, the ears hear more, the nose smells more and the brain expands in ways that cannot be taught otherwise.  Most of you will never so to Somalia, I doubt I'll ever go back, but I hope a lot of you are able to make it to some parts of Africa.  It's essential.

Powerless

Hieronymus Bosch

One of the hardest yet most poignant lessons to learn in life is that we cannot change anyone except ourselves.  This is especially tricky when addiction is involved since people suffering from that disease do need a lot of help to recover.  The problem is that you cannot force someone to change or even to want to change.  Recovery is for people who want it and not for people who need it.  The best thing to do is lead by example and hopefully, somehow, someone thinks what you have is desirable and seeks it out also.
     I have a few situations in my life at the moment that are heartbreaking but I am powerless over them.  There are 2 important people in my life who are suffering from the ravages of addiction and the poor choices one makes when embroiled in it.  I have watched the absolute downfall of some of the most fantastic and creative people and it is absolutely unbearable.  At what point do you let go and just hope for the best?  What can you do for a grown man that goes through depilating, open-heart surgery just to land back in intensive care by refusing to change his ways?  What can you do for a grown woman who lets a drug fueled mind allow her to invite a very well known woman beater to live in her home?  People have to live with and in some cases suffer from the choices they make.  Why is it that some people have such a deep down, spiritual desire to change that they find their way to freedom from active addiction?  I suppose the answers aren't really important or possible to come by.  Why is never as important as how - how can I make myself and my life better?  There's the million dollar question.
     I think back to the days when I was struggling and killing myself with drugs.  I see now so clearly how my actions, that I was certain were only affecting me, were affecting all of my friends and family.  Phone calls from concerned friends to my mother, tough love lectures from loved ones, rehab, outpatient group counseling, therapy - none of these things got me sober.  I wasn't ready or willing to give up my bad habits and commit to any kind of change.  So, I totally get it.  Because I can see these situations from both sides it has made me almost zen about them.  Of course, I have empathy and concern and sadness and tears but I know that all I can do is offer love and support.  You could point a gun in the face of someone who is waist deep in addiction and they'd still, most likely, reach for the drugs.
     The only reason that I am sober almost 14 years now is because I was lucky enough to hear a voice way, deep, down inside of me that was telling me I'd never amount to anything if I didn't change my ways.  Actually, it was more like a knowing that I would never find any peace or happiness in life if I stayed a party monster.  I've said it before but I knew that I was the only person building a road block between me and the person I was meant to be.  I could see myself slathering the cement on brick after brick literally building a huge wall in the middle of my own path.  No one else was stopping me from being happy - it was all on me.
     I wish there was no such thing as addiction.  Surely, it would be one of my 3 Aladdin wishes if I was ever really able to rub that magic lamp.  It affects so many people and causes such suffering and is still wildly misunderstood and demonized.  I had no choice but to be affected by it and it's something that will be in my life in one form or another until the end.  For now, for today, as I type this things are right in my world and I'd be a fool to not see the many blessings and luxurious that I am afforded in this life.  I hope that the people that I love that are still or yet again suffering can get to that place too.

Freedom

Frida Kahlo - The Love Embrace of the Universe,the Earth,Myself,Diego and Senor Xolotl, 1949

What is it that causes emotional pain?  Is it when reality doesn't coincide with the script we have written for ourselves in our brains? Is it when we idealize our pasts and remember them as idyllic even though they were far from it?  Is it when we project with fear about future outcomes and circumstances in our lives.?  Actual trauma obviously has lasting effects on us as humans but it's what our brains do with the information that causes the hurting. You cannot change your past but you can change how you see yourself and you can even go back and heal the child within.
     Dr. Arlene Drake who is one of the most amazing therapists and women I have ever met taught me that re-parenting myself was possible. When trauma happens we often are stunted and part of us stays frozen in that moment forever.  If trauma happens as a child that child is still trapped inside in that moment and needs to be rescued, healed and loved.  Pretty lofty stuff but it makes complete sense.  I know for me I would often re-tell and re-live circumstances from my childhood and 1/2 the time it was my subconscious bringing these moments up like an old movie playing on a loop. I couldn't escape them and much of my actions as an adult were a direct result of trying to stamp out these memories.
     I was fortunate enough to find my way to Arlene when I was actually ready to deal with and conquer my demons.  I had been sober about 5 years but I knew that I needed to delve deeper in my issues than a 12 step program could provide.  I wasn't happy and I kept picking really unavailable people to date - I was the one who was truly unavailable though.  One night I went to a large dinner party and the table was so big and loud that it was impossible to strike up a conversation with anyone who wasn't sitting directly next to me. I was seated next to my friend Debbie and for some reason I was very honest and open with her about what I was going through.  She related and told me about the intense and life changing therapy she had with Dr. Drake.  I knew I needed therapy but the task of finding someone good was daunting to say the least. Debbie gave me Arlene's card and I called her the very next day.  I was truly ready and the teacher truly appeared.
     The experiences we have never leave us but we can work on ways to not have them rule over us like a nasty warlord. In a strange way I am grateful for all that I have been through even the really painful shit because it made me into the person I am today.  Somehow, I didn't let myself or my experiences completely destroy me.  Something in me had the willingness and the desire to become a person who can honestly enjoy and even love myself and my life.  I know that I was not put on earth to be a sad and lonely person - no one is.
     Some of these ideas may seem esoteric - inner child and re-parenting, but they are the core fundamentals of overcoming trauma and childhood pain.  It's amazing to actually visualize the hurting child within and to talk to him and lead him out of the darkness.  After all, its the subconscious running the show and issues that are ignored only grow and morph into deeper issues if they aren't dealt with.  There's no such thing as emotionally sweeping things under the rug, it isn't a solution that actually works.  Instead you will create a large and dangerous emotional, dust monster that will rear it's ugly head and attack your sanity at any given moment.
     Somehow, deep down I understood that I was the only one in charge of my own happiness and sanity.  I was spiritually drawn to finding a way to deal with my pain and sorrow.  As I said above I was ready and through some miraculous (some might say) experiences I found my way to a person that could help me get over my shit!  I am forever grateful for that and now even though I still have some bad days and some residual emotions that try to drag me back down to hell I can recognize them and I don't let them take a hold of me anymore.  Me and my inner child are trudging the road of happy destiny hand in hand.

Choices

Dad & me, 1974

My Dad just had major heart surgery.  You know, the kind where they saw open your torso and pry open your skeleton like a side of beef at a butcher shop.  He was advised by doctors that he needed this surgery 11 years ago but was reluctant to do so.  I get it.  No one WANTS surgery, unless it's cosmetic.  I too would be hard pressed to just hop on the operating table if I was told by western  medicine that I needed to.  I would immediately embark on a journey of healing through nutrition, exercise, meditation and herbs.  That's me.  That's not what my Dad did.
     My Dad is an alcoholic.  So am I which is why I work so hard to maintain my 13+ years of sobriety.  My father has never stopped drinking and I don't even know if he's ever wanted to or tried to.  I haven't seen him in more years than I can count but the last time I did he pretty much subsisted on caffeine, nicotine, and alcohol.  When I talk to him now he sounds the same as he always has albeit a little less sharp with his verbal communication and there's a lot more hacking involved.  He decided to get the surgery because his wife of 30 years died pretty suddenly a few months back and now he has no real reason to stay alive - those were his words not mine.
     For me I think things would be the exact opposite.  Wouldn't you want to get as healthy as possible  to sustain longevity for the person/people you love?  The point of any intense surgery is to prolong life or at least improve the quality of it.  Because open heart surgery is clearly a huge gamble, in his eyes risking death at the doctors hands while he was still married seemed out of the question - now that he's alone the outcome is unimportant to him.  Alcoholism surely clouds, rots, and warps the brain among other things.  One of the main reasons I wanted to get sober.  I wanted to be clear in my life and know that the things I was doing were coming from a real or pure place and not one mired by toxins.
     My Dad is pushing 70 and to be quite frank I'm surprised he has made it this far.  There doesn't seem to be much rhyme or reason as to when your time is up.  When I called the hospital after his surgery the nurse said she had a touchy equation to ask.  She wanted to know if my Dad was a big drinker.  Alcoholism is a deadly disease and it can wipe you out fast as a plague or it can kill you slowly and meticulously like an incurable cancer that eats away at you until you are a shriveled husk of your former self.  You could be sober and get hit by a bus or you could drink away your life into your 90s.  For me it came down to quality of life.
     Originally, I got sober because heroin was bound to kill me fast the way I was going.  When I started drinking again a while after rehab I never went back to heroin but I partied like it was 1999 most nights of the week.  That was the myth in my head that BIG, BAD, HEROIN was the culprit and not me and my destructive behavioral patterns and choices.  I ran with that for a long time.  I looked fine, I worked at least 5 nights a week and always had a fat pocket full of bar tending money.  No one was pointing their fingers at me telling me I had better change or else but...deep, down inside I knew that I was spiritually empty and that my life was pretty hollow.  Just a series of nights and mornings that all blended together with some fun in between but mostly just a cycle of getting wasted, sleeping it off and repeat.
     I'm not sure if my Dad is happy.  I know that of late he is in mourning but beyond that I have no idea.  I don't know if he had dreams that all fell by the wayside and goals that were left in a heap like yesterday's trash.  For me, I knew that alcohol was a self-imposed road block to the real me and that if I had any hopes of finding my way to that person I had better change my ways.  I got sober for me which is the only reason why I think it's worked this time around.  I really wanted to find out where I could go in this life and who I could become and to know what it truly meant to love - especially myself.
     I hope my Dad recovers and feels better.  I have long ago lost hope that he would ever lead a different life style.  I'm not sure what the quality of his life will be post-surgery.  His wife is gone, his health is hanging on by a thread and the worst part, for me at least, is that that the adventure is all gone.  I want to be like my beautiful Grandma Molly who was robust and curious up until her 90s.  I want to feel good and look good and continue to learn and grow and explore this beautiful, vast planet.  If I was still drunk I wouldn't have any of those choices.  I want to continue to go to sleep every night fully aware of the things I have done and the day I have had and not try to black out to ease the pain and shame of my behaviors.  For me self love is my top priority and that's exactly what sobriety is.


   

Wisdom

Beautiful Mom & Grandma, 1981

The other day while talking to my mom I heard something I had never heard before. She said that people who struggle and struggle their whole lives but never seem to get past their troubles are younger souls. They haven't been around for enough lifetimes to get past their obstacles. The people that conquer their turmoils and learn to flourish despite obstacles are older souls.  They've been around many lifetimes and have had more time to grow.  Wise words, indeed.  I firmly believe that we are reincarnated again and again in order to learn the lessons we are meant to. Perhaps when we truly become fully evolved beings our souls are then set free and our time on earth is done.
     The idea of reincarnation was never unusual to me. As a very young boy my Grandma Molly told me about reincarnation and I belived it.  Molly was also a very wise and spiritual woman and she opened my mind up to a lot of ideas that would be considered esoteric to some.  After learning about that I was 100% certain that I was King Tut reincarnated, I was beyond fascinated with Egypt and Egyptian mythology - perfect for a future goth.  When my mom got me tickets (2 years in advance) for the King Tut exhibit at The Metropolitan Museum of Art I was never happier. Grandma Molly lived waking distance to The Met and I always loved spending time with her in that magical place.
     Every time I talked to my grandma I felt like I learned something new. Even in her 90's she was still learning things about herself and was open to the fact that there is always more knowledge out there.  In fact, she taught me that we actually know less as we get older or, more accurately, we learn that we are just a small piece of a vast universe and many questions have no answers.  The same goes for my mom now.  Sometimes she just has a lovely insight into a situation or puts something into a perspective that I hadn't thought of. She's an amazing listener which leads to greater insight - when someone really hears your words they understand them more.  Most people are too busy thinking about what they are going to say next to actually hear what you are trying to convey.
     I've always felt a deeper connection to the matriarchal side of my family.  My whole life I've had a closer and more in tune relationship with women.  Even though I'm gay I've had a harder time communicating with men.  Maybe it's because the examples I had of who was actually around physically and emotionally were the women in my family.  My Grandpa was a very hardworking and loyal man and was always supporting us financially but I never felt close to him and I had a hard time having conversations with him.  At one point when I was a kid I had 5 grandmas (including 2 great grandmas and a step grandma) and 3 of them I was very close to.
     Now, every time I talk to my mom and even my dad, on occasion, I find that I gain some kind of insight or new perspective.  When I talk to my dad I usually learn something about myself and, often, the conclusions I come to are slightly uncomfortable.  With my mom though, besides the comfort and love I feel from her I also tend to hear pearls of wisdom and insight on how to navigate the rocky waters of life.  I try to be more like her all the time by being a better listener and trying to be more gentle - especially with myself.

The Kiss

"The Kiss" by  Gustav Klimt, 1907

Love comes in many forms, sizes and shapes.  Often, it comes at unexpected times and in unexpected ways.  The problem I encountered for many, many years was comparing all of my relationships to the one that I had idealized the most in my memory.  I was left unhappy and unsatisfied because nothing was ever exactly the same as that relationship again.  The truth of the matter is that every relationship is different and even the ways that love is felt can be different with each person.
     Some love is quiet and steady like a mountain stream and some love is wild and intense like an ocean at high tide.  Some love is easy, breezy and beautiful and some love is tumultuous,  tempestuous and tragic.  Sometimes lust is misconstrued for love and sometimes real love is rejected out of fear.  I think that deep, down inside we all know what is really good for us even if we cannot admit it when we are in it.  All I know is that it should feel good and not be a constant source of pain.  As obvious as that sounds a lot of people, myself included, have mistaken love for pain and tolerated much more than one should.
     My last and longest long-term relationship was very easy and simple in the beginning.  We hit it off, started dating and eased into a 4.5 year relationship.  There was never any huge fireworks or rocket-blasting, train-racing-through-a-tunnel passion but it was nice and mostly loving, at first.  I thought I finally knew what real love was.  The other things I had experienced were more like lust in the dust - fast, cheap, and outta control but not lasting.  The problem was that easy and simple turned into mundane and passion-less.  I started to go to bed and wake up feeling very alone and unloved even though I was physically sleeping next to another person.  I had resigned myself to spending the rest of my life with a man who was not warn and fuzzy and certainly not intimate on the level that I require.
     After it ended I was dead set that I would not embark on any kind of relationship again, at least not for a long, long time.  I also was completely aware that the purpose of that relationship was to teach me that I was, indeed, capable of sustaining and being involved in a long-term endeavor.  I had never experienced that before and was beginning to think I was unlovable and incapable of long-term love.  It didn't work out but it taught me a huge life lesson so essentially it was invaluable.  That lesson trumped the immediate feelings of failure and shame that I experienced directly following the break-up.
     Now, I have met someone quite unexpectedly that sent electric sparks throughout my entire being upon the very 1st kiss.  My ex actually told me at one point that people in relationships don't make out with each other!  WHAT???  Well, then who the fuck does?  I mean, this coming from the guy that couldn't even lift his head off the couch to mutter a "hello" when I returned home from a long-ass day of work.  My new boyfriend literally jumps up and runs to greet me with so much love in his being it almost makes me cry tears of joy.  It's that feeling where all you can think about is making out and every kiss is as exciting as the 1st.  Clearly, this is a different kind of love and the kind that I like a lot.  Like I love it!
     It's amazing to look at someone and see them beaming back at you with hearts in their eyes like a silly and cute emoji.  Nothing feels better and I think that the me of today is open to receiving it and giving it back.  My old self was closed off and scared and felt damaged and broken.  Those days are long over now and the hills are alive with the sound of music (and NOT Lady Gaga's version!!)  OK, I'm not THAT corny and/or gay but I am feeling very loved and loving and that's a pretty great place to reside.
     For many reasons lately, including basic sanity, I'm trying my best to live in the moment.  To not fall into the trap of wanting or thinking I need more than I have.  The key to happiness is loving what you have and not always trying to get what you want.  Of course, if you work hard, stay the course, persevere, and enjoy yourself oftentimes the things you want come along as well.  The same goes for relationships - you don't NEED one to survive but it's like the cherry on top of a delicious sundae.  Right now I'm blessed to have met a super sweet, loving and affectionate cherry and it just might be because I attracted a like-minded soul into my life.  Yeah, I think I'll go with that!




   
   

Oceanside

My current view 

What is it about the ocean that brings an instant calm to my soul? How is it that in this day and age there can still be something so majestic and powerful that it cleanses away all of my stresses and worries?  I'm currently reclining in a hammock on a 2nd story porch overlooking the bluest and calmest waters. There  is a slight ripple on the surface from the warm islsnd breeze other than that the robin's egg blue water is peaceful and quiet. Sure, the ocean is fierce and powerful and can cause serious damage but it's also a tranquil being. I suppose it mirrors the human experience in that way.

    I'm in Turks & Caicos which is a slice of paradise on earth but that feeling of the waters washing away all the BS of life happens to me whenever I'm near the ocean. I've had the same feeling at Coney Island, Province Town, Fire Island and even in Mogadishu, Somailia (yeah, I get around.)  That must be why humans have worshipped the seas and prayed with the tides for centuries now. The waves and currents magnetically, magically remove and infuse. It's like the earth breathing - in with the new out with the old. Everything that's important can be found in nature, it's what we are made of.

     It's so easy to get far removed from the true meanings of life. Especially when you live in LA, NYC, Chicago, Paris, London - any metropolitan area where the landscape is ruled by fame and fortune. Sure, it's awesome to be rewarded for your hard work and perseverance but no bank account or closet full of designer duds will ever soothe and nourish your soul.  I think what most humans are really after is love and peace and joy. If you could remove all circumstances of finance from the equation what would you love to be doing in this life?  It's not an easy question to answer for some.  I know I've struggled my whole life trying to figure out what I'm "supposed" to be doing. The one thing I know for sure is that it's important for me to do my best possible job even if I'm working in a situation that isn't my ideal. I can never get to another level if I don't love and respect the level I'm at. 

     Part of the reason why I've always been so adamant about travel and vacations is because it makes me love and appreciate my life even more when I can step away from it.  I love living in the city even though it gets tiring with all the people and cars in your face everyday.  Removing myself from that temporarily and sitting by the most fabulous source of nature reminds me that the world is huge and that I'm just a small part of it. This giant ocean clearly does not set its schedule based on my needs and desires. It's actually refreshing to realize that you are not in charge. I'm simply here to try and be the best version of myself that I can be and if that's all I ever accomplish it's totally enough. 

Don't Dis - Courage

My house for the next week!!!

I had an experience yesterday that left me feeling defeated.  I had a meeting with someone about a possible awesome opportunity and I was under the impression that I was getting my foot in the door before anyone else.  Turns out that I was actually really late in the game.  I was floored by this information even though I kept my sunny game face on.  This person told me not to be discouraged but the second she said that I went to that deep, dark place of "nothing EVER works out for me!"  It's like when you're upset and someone says "calm down" and a veil of red closes over your eyes and you wish that person bodily harm - perhaps that's just me but I highly doubt it.  Of course, she was right any number of things could happen because when you are dealing with humans there is always a large margin of error.  Tell 'em Large Margin sent ya!
     We can't control circumstances in life but what we can control is our reaction to them.  Unfortunately, after the meeting I was dejected, depressed and disconcerted and the only thing I could really do was take a nap.  That helped a bit.  I didn't stay in my dark place too long I eventually let it go and tried my best to see things in a glass half-full perspective.  I was bummed with myself for defaulting to that self-defeating mode.  All of these thousands of years of therapy that I've had, all the hard work that I've done on myself and I still default (at times) to gloom and doom.  This is why I find it incessantly annoying to be human.  Feelings.  Damn then to hell!  Don't even get me started on having to go to the bathroom - ugh!
     Today, I can see that the experience was actually very positive.  The meeting went very well and the woman I met said at least 3 times that she loved talking to me.  We talked about art, fashion, travel, Kate Bush even.  It was a great conversation if nothing else.  So, now, the outcome is not up to me - I showed up and did my best and that's all one can ever do.  I can forgive myself for becoming a gloomy teenager again because at least it only lasted 2 hours instead of 20 years.
     Often I wonder if I will ever figure out my purpose in this world.  Will I ever get to a place where all the pieces fall into place and career-wise it comes together?  I said to a friend earlier that at least all my exploring has made for a rich and colorful life.  I'm pretty sure that the only person on earth who ever thinks I am a failure is me.  One of my lessons in this life is to learn to be gentle and kind to myself, it's the hardest thing for me.  I'd never put up with the BS I inflict upon myself from anyone else.  In fact, I'd send that chump packing for judging me so.  Perhaps I should send that negative, bitter, judge-y part of myself packing - a one way ticket to oblivion please!
     Speaking of packing,  tomorrow I am off to Turks & Caicos for a week long vacation in paradise.  I'm excited to fulfill my rule of going to 1 new place every year and I also plan on leaving my brain at home.  I will not think about anything except the scenery while I'm gone and all the stresses of city life can stay behind in the city.  That is a reality that I have created for myself so, really, life is pretty amazing.

Fear of the Unknown

I have never been afraid to try new things or to go to new places.  However, I am pretty terrified when I think about the future, for some reason I primarily only project negative thoughts.  This is one of the reasons why living in the now is so essential to happiness.  Of course, it's impossible, even for Oprah or Eckhart Tolle, to be 100% in the now.  The human condition prevents this from being a reality.  We can practice and strive and aim and try though - constantly moving forward and doing our best to grow and change.
     It's also tricky to know the difference between making goals and projecting.  One cannot simply sit around and wish for the best and take no action.  Also, obsessing about every single detail of events that have yet to happen is detrimental.  I have learned that the trick is to set the goals, take all necessary and available steps and then let the outcome go - the outcome is not in our hands.  Sounds easy, right?  Hahaha, it sure ain't.
     Recently I had an amazing audition for a big national commercial for a well known product.  It went very well and I received a callback.  The night before my callback I decided that I would bring my A game and really show up and be available.  I meditated on prosperity that night (certainly, not an everyday practice for me), ate a healthy dinner, went to bed early and got a great night's sleep.  The next day I woke up and before I even got out of bed I decided I would have an amazing day and do my best to keep positive.  I had a healthy smoothie, exercised, and then went to the callback.  I even did a 5 minute meditation in the car before I went in just to center myself and calm my brain.
     When I walked into the room the clients and casting people were all very warm and receptive (usually, they act like you are not even present.)  I was charming, funny and had the room laughing.  I did my absolute best and I left feeling great.  As I was walking to the car I decided that no matter what the outcome was that I would be proud of myself for doing all I could do knowing that the rest was out of my hands.  It's hard to not think about the money in these situations.  National commercials can be big bucks and I'm the type of guy that spends money in my head that I have not even earned yet.
      I did not book the job - perhaps they went with a blonde guy, I will never know the real reason.  I did my best to not get into a downward spiral of failure and self - judgement.  I didn't achieve that 100% but I did maintain a pretty decent level of keeping positive for doing my best.  I also realized that I made some great connections at that callback and that in the future I would probably work with those people or, at least, audition for them again.  You never know when the results of your actions will take place.  Sometimes the things you do set a whole string of events in motion and lead to a place you were not expecting.  Things rarely happen in the time that we are expecting but everything always does happen as it was meant to.  Another hard lesson to learn.  Again, do your absolute best and let go of the outcome.
     I have found that a lot of things that were not meant to be in my life have been stripped away this past year.  It's as the universe is doing the work that I did not know how to do myself.  The main problem that I am having now is that I hear the message loud and clear yet I do not know what is next or which direction I'm to go in.  I can blindly jump and hope it's not the precipice of a cliff that I'm teetering over.  Perhaps I am just standing on a large rock and the landing will be manageable and relatively painless?   Why is it that the most growth comes from experience that are hard and painful?  How come all the happy moments in life don't teach us the deepest lessons?  I suppose the pain and difficulty we experience make the happy times that much sweeter.  If there was no hardship we would never know when we were actually happy - there'd be no gauge to the experience.  For now, in this very moment, as I type this everything is actually OK.