Another blogger I enjoy reading tells about her unwanted feelings toward weather blogging. She says its boring. I find it fascinating how changing weather affects in different ways. However severe weather is another story altogether especially when it inflicts tragedy - so we'll put that on the back burner for a while.
Rainy weather used to keep me from going places. I'd whine and moan and groan about the rainy and use it as a poor excuse as to why I should stay home. My view is different today, I don't think I'll melt if I get a little wet out there.
Last night, Saturday, when the rain began to fall in a quiet drizzle I decided to attended my usual art gallery opening reception parties and was surprised at the large turnout. Maybe that's a sign of successful people. Very little stops them from doing what they intended to do and thus keep commitments to themselves and others. That's a definite sign of success. Not afraid to be a bit uncomfortable.
Even if you want to cuddle up on your couch with a good book and drink a hot tottie, if something is going on outside where you'll be with people, interesting or not, just go.
Oh its so easy to be an armchair philosopher these days offering advice to others when you sometimes feel you're drowning in a pool of rain in your own life. Sorry for the swift shift in mood and tone but there were several gallery crawler schnoorers I bumped into last night who I thought were maybe a reflection of myself. If they were, indeed, mirrors of me, it made me frightened so see my self on the artists canvas.
Especially one person I'll call Mike, to keep his identity private, has been wearing the exact same KGB black on black on black outfit since the first time we met a few years ago. I'd like to write a fictional story loosely based on his lonely but happy go lucky character like Kramer on Seinfeld. Then it suddenly dawned on me that the dozen or so rat pack art gallery and book reading crawler schnoorers were not so far removed from me. Its hard to see yourself spiritually naked with all your flaws, dreams and regrets fully exposed. Maybe that's why we fill our blow holes with wine, vodka and beer during these shows, to make us numb to the reality of life and awake to the beautiful fantasy that will soon diminish like a puff of smoke.
I'd like to think I'm a bit cool and cosmopolitan. I believe I did have my fifteen minutes of fame in 2000 before 911 changed the world. But as one of my new years resolutions of neither lying nor exaggerating the truth or accuracy, I'm neither. Having left the corporate world to seek a writer's existence was a complete shock to my complete body system in more ways than I could have imagined.
In today's caste society, people are what they do more so than their worth. The toughest question to answer these days are, "So, what do you do?" My response is "I'm a writer and photographer" Although not untruthful I've yet to earn an income in those fields. I've submitted my works of high art to local and Internet media but am still waiting for a response as my beard grows greyer each day.
Well. the light drizzle turned into a windy hard rain, a sound so enjoy hearing.
Today is a full day of chores including writing up my "blurb" for a short course in autobiography writing which I will lead. I so enjoy writing biographies of others. The interview process is quite fun. Everyone has a story to tell. Not all are interesting, but everyone wants to he heard and listened to. Autobiography writing is a good exercise to share one's life story including milestones and intimate moments. Their stories will be a legacy to their families, a catharsis for themselves and a way to have their long time friends and sometimes relatives to get to know them a little better.
I'm looking forward to teaching the class and any of you out need any bio tips, just ask.
OK enough blathering. Time to do some real writing and household chores.
Bye for now all thos who have gotten this far.