It's 10 pm and I'm in Eliot, Maine. My plans changed once again and I'm staying with friends. Apparently we had email glitches and had a tough time getting in touch.

The house is on a small country road that winds through tidal marshes. The air is thick and my nose picks up the smell of salt with the periodic breeze.

While on the highway, feeling the distance between my parents and the ocean, my head slipped through many thoughts. Parents came to mind. I wonder if my mother was stifled by my dad. It seems it. Mom once told me that I would have the opportunity to live the life she never could. The more I stop and listen, the more I hear her. Her faith and religion is strong, but she will listen to logic and reason. She questions. She sees the greys and understands there are many right ways. My dad. He listens to religion...his catholicism. He will shut down reason if it contradicts with the church's teachings. Tough stuff.

They are both loving people and love each other as well. Very much. I couldn't imagine being involved with someone who didn't have a similar life philosophy. But they are.

Driving today I felt the claustrophobia of the last few days disappear. Breathing was easier. I thought about my home. Seattle. I knew I could never move back here. Not now anyway. The area is dead. I can't find much beauty in the stillness. I'm sure there are pockets of life. But it's not my life. I guess it's true. You can't go home again. Visit yes. That's it.

Driving through Worcester, then Lawrence...still dead. The air was stifling. I refused to turn on the a/c because I didn't want to suck up more gas. It was a silly, frugal moment.
Haverhill. Signs for Newburyport. My nose twitched. I sensed it. 495 turns into 95 and I knew I was near the ocean. I smelled the salt. The air was drier, cooler. It felt alive.

This is curious. It's familiar and yet I still feel like a stranger in a strange land. I sat in Market Square with a coffee, people watching with my oldest friend. A big part of me felt detached.

I used to see this area as my second home after Seattle. It originally felt like my very first home. My choice as an adult. For some reason I always thought it would feel that way.

Maybe this is what growing up is. This trip is showing me how I've changed and what I'm letting go of. Bittersweet. Once again on this trip I use the word. Maybe it's the theme of my vacation.

I'm typing in my friend's attic. It's her office in a newly purchased home. It used to be a parsonage. Everyone else is asleep.

Tomorrow I will head to the water by myself. I am just now beginning to relax.

I'm making this quick because I want to spend time with the others. Just booked rental car for this week and next. And tomorrow I am headed for Portsmouth NH. I'm spending tomorrow night in Portsmouth and Friday night in Haverhill MA. From there I can hop the train in Boston on Saturday.

Yeah....finally completed these details! Within a half hour of talking with two hotels and two rental car companies, I managed to save over $200.00. I didn't accept their first price...but asked about discounts. Scored. I then asked more questions. Scored again. :-) My first car rental went from $147.00 to $88.00. The second (on a holiday weekend) went form $148.00 to $100.00. I managed to get discounted hotel rates also. Time worth spent.

My mother and I had an interesting talk this morning. She asked if I was becoming a buddhist.
"No mom, not in the formal, ritual sense." I continued with "I am not wearing robes and doing sitting meditations. But I've noticed that my life philosophy is closer to buddhism than anything else. I'm letting myself be who I am."

Mind you, this is a big conversation for my mother and I. When I came out to my parents many years ago...I decided to go all out. Seeing I was informing them I was gay, I decided to tell them not to hold their breath for my return to catholicism. During this particular talk, I noticed it was more difficult for me to come out about fully cutting off their religion (for me, not them) than it was to discuss my homosexuality. Interesting, eh?

So that's why this morning's talk was curious and surprising. Mom ends with "buddhism doesn't surprise me. You've always preferred a simpler, more peaceful life without extraneous stuff. I know you see our world as one of greys, not black and white. I know you are big on compassion. You've surrounded yourself with loving friends and are all into helping each other and others."

You know, sometimes parents just turn around and surprise you.

I've reconfigured my parent's computer so I can access what I need to. Apparently my brother set them up so they work in a virtual bubble. No chance of porn or spam for them...or anything close!

How about this week's Freewill Astrology?

Hey. I'm here.

Other than being very tired from not sleeping well on the plane, I'm experiencing a huge sense of culture shock. Big time.

For me to live in a world (in Seattle) that I'm fully out regarding not only my queerness but my Leather, to be immersed in so many ways with freethinkers...funky folks, to not have to dip into the pool of mainstream, capitalistic sheep thinking, and then...to land here.

I'm surrounded by Catholicism. I'm surrounded by beautiful colors, good taste, and yet it's all so plastic some how.

I love my family and yet I feel so much like a foreigner. Right now I have a difficult time believing we have the same blood. They talk loud and fast. I knew that. But I can feel the contrast even more now from my own life. It's about stuff. Superficial stuff.

Maybe they don't know how to be with me. Maybe they don't know what to talk about. You see, religion is off limits. Politics is off limits. That kinda wraps it all up, doesn't it? Isn't everything political anyway?

They know I'm queer, but have no idea how queer.

On top of it, their computer is set up with AOL...somehow set up in a way to protect them from whatever. I can't even log onto my personal email, work email or anything. :-(
I'm currently at the library...taking a little time for me, before returning home to a big dinner with parents, brothers, sisters, in-laws and little ones milling around. It will be very good to see everyone...and yet...

...I'm not them.

I currently feel as if this will be a bittersweet visit. Or maybe I'm still tired and will see things differently after a good night's sleep.

Check out the new link I've added to my links list. Keckler and I apparently have a few people in common. Hopefully, if schedules work out while I'm in Boston hanging with Blackbird, we may be able to hook up and meet. There were a few others I hoped to see while back east, but times aren't meshing. It's annoying because I'm 3000 miles closer, yet due to schedules, it's just as far. Singletails...next time!

Nope. I haven't left yet. I've been busy and now I'm set. Sir is taking me to the airport in 4 hours. I'm fully packed and checked my list 4 times. I have time to kick back, grab a leisurely shower and then head out.

I have internet access while on vacation and plan on blogging. I've been stockpiling a few blogs in my head and will have time to write.

Packing was a challenge. I pulled out my old backpack for a carryon. That wasn't too bad. But then I have a not huge but fairly large black bag which made for a challenge. Of course I ended up with too much. After sitting on it since last night, I figured out what to weed. You see, I had room for everything except my watercolor bag. I plan on finding time for a little painting. It had to fit! After slowing down for a bit I realized that I wasn't going to use color this time. Strictly b&w watercolors. So I opened my plastic case and pulled out the tube of black and grabbed a handful of my favorite brushes. Added a roll of tape, rag, small container for water and I'll use the cover as a palette. A few pencils and a utility knife for sharpening (yes this is going in checked luggage). Add one large pad and I'm set. It fit by stuffing each in a different pocket or gaps between clothes.
Note to Always Erect....I'm ready for some painting!

When I'm tired I like to play with what I call my little zen paintings. Black watercolor paint and no thinking. I paint lights and darks. Shapes. Quickly. Little hesitation. I look and mark the paper. The longest a painting will take is about 5 minutes. It's quite freeing.

Sometimes I'll go in with soft graphite pencils afterwards for a line or very loose hatching. These are very small pieces. 2x4 inches, 1x5, etc. I tape off a large sheet of 11x14 paper into smaller units.

I don't expect to have a chance to do these until the latter part of my vacation. But I'll be ready.

Vacation reading material: Mapplethorpe: Assault with a Deadly Camera, PoMoSexuals, An Unquiet Mind, and Art Objects: Essays on Ecstasy and Effrontery. I wanted to bring Anna Karenina but ran out of room and my copy is a hardcover, very thick and not light. Although while googling I noticed the book is now online. Sir bought Anna Karenina for me a year ago, while returning from Pride. But like all these books mentioned, I didn't have the patience to read much. I'd read in fits and starts which leaves a large pile of unfinished books.

Today I paid rent and let the manager know I'm leaving at the end of July. It felt so good! Not only that, but something let loose inside. I returned home, cleaned my whole apartment, took out trash and even washed my car. For some reason, it didn't feel like a chore.

I'll write more later, before I leave.

Something was in the water yesterday. Or something happened with the stars. Both apartment managers blew us off. We sat on the stoop of each building, waiting and waiting some more for a rental person who'd never show. But having discovered earlier that someone else would do the drive to the airport helped. Otherwise I would have stressed about being late and someone would feel stranded at baggage claim. The back to back no shows seemed so odd it became ludicrious.

Because I'm flying back east for two weeks on Monday night, I thought that yesterday's viewings would be the last of it until I return. I now know that I'll be making phone calls today to reschedule and see if I can cram in appointments on Monday, while getting ready for vacation. As I told my shrink last night, "I don't think I'm meant to relax until I'm actually on the plane." He agreed. Sometimes life just hits hard. In those times, part of being family means putting in the extra effort and time. It's called love.

I do know everything happens for a reason, even when I'm not aware of what it can be. So here I am, trusting in that. Today I'm headed over to see the Bear and wonderboy before going into work. I need massive Bearish-type hugs. Then it's an afternoon of leaving instructions for work folks, and emailing notes regarding the fundraiser on the 4th to the manager of the Eagle, and the boys who will assist with the bbq etc. Tonight it's getting together with friends. And I'm not cancelling. Other parties are busy so I know I'll be free. Oh yeah...Tattoe'd Bear and a buzzcut fits in here somewhere.

Hopefully Sunday I can do laundry, connect with a few more people, and...I don't even know what else. I've been tentative about making personal plans. Each time I have, in these last two weeks, I've needed to cancel.

I still need to make phone calls and send emails to folks back east. I want to begin to finalize hookups. Again, hopefully Sunday or Monday I can do that.

Isn't this an exciting entry? I think it's more for my benefit. I woke early, with all that needs to be wrapped up floating in front of my face. I've made 4 different lists...but it's so full I fear I'll forget.

Once I'm away and begin to relax I'll have more juice for you. I promise.

Okay....one more post this morning. While beginning to tackle one pile on my desk, I heard the crack of a singletail which lets me know I have mail. How can I not share another Mark Morford moment with you?

He writes:

"...This is the mental image we are to believe, happening right this moment, across this fine nation: One hundred million honest, hard-working, sexually terrified parents are running around their homes with their hands to their heads, each thinking oh my freaking God what if our beautiful wee one just so happens to walk by the TV on his/her way to get an innocent glass of pure clean innocent Coca-Cola to wash down the pure innocent kiddie Prozac, and s/he just so happens to hear Tony Soprano call someone a "motherf-- " on TV? Why, our child, s/he would surely quiver and tremble and explode! Yes s/he would!"

and then,

"But what actually should matter is that there are forces at play right now that are far more intent on devouring your child's nubile soul -- like, say, ultraviolent war images, and rampant obesity, and organized religion, and pharmecuetical companies, and the Olsen Twins -- enerrgies that are molesting his/her sense of the world more than any hot genital reference or wanton exposed nipple could ever dream."

He concludes with a brilliant quote:

As Tom Robbins says, "There's many ways to victimize people. The most insidious is to convince them that they're victims."

Today Morford speaks for the children.

Good morning!

This will be quick because I have 2 pages of "to do's" I need to start on. I'm here until 1pm, and then run to two apartment viewings - 1:30 & 2:00 for leatherman. From there, we buzz to the airport (about 30 minutes away) to pick someone up who arrives at 2:50. Cutting it close? Yup. Then I run back into town for a 6 pm appointment with the shrink. That's how my week's been going. Tomorrow back to work, squeeze in a buzzcut, and then fun plans (hopefully) with Hoss, Hoss's boy, and Auxugen. I had to grab some lightheartedness amidst a chockful week.

Anyway, while driving to work this morning I heard one of my favorite new songs. The chorus sticks in my head because it is so visual, as well as being a tongue twister because of the tempo. Every once in a while a singer/songwriter comes along and really nails their lyrics. Jason Mraz sings:

"I’m just a Curbside Prophet
with my hand in my pocket
and I’m waiting for my rocket:
to come"

Isn't there a painting in there? I think so.

And I ain't doing no waiting but I sure could use that rocket this morning!

It is Pride week in Seattle, with events culminating with our Pride March on Sunday. Of course all the papers have articles, opinions and blurbs about queers. Pride week. The one time of the year where it's groovy for everyone to declare their queerness or of being a friend of a queer. Yes, you did hear a tad of cynicism in that statement.

Don't get me wrong, I love Pride week. I just get annoyed at the hordes who essentially don't think twice about minorities and discrimination until Pride week when it's the cool way to be 'in'. Note: translate "think" to mean get involved, empassioned and willing to put yourself out, even in small ways, to support social justice.

Anyway...I've been so busy that I don't even know if I'll have the energy to march this year, or stay at home...away from some of the festivities. I'll play it by ear.

This week's issue of The Stranger had a nice little piece reminding people of the severity of queer oppression in other parts of the world.

I know I'm fortunate by living in Seattle. Hanging out on the Hill and working for a queer organization can make it easy to forget that the rest of the country isn't like this. Large metropolitan centers tend to have pockets of openness. But sometimes, simply stepping 30 miles outside of that brings one to a very different world. Now, because our outreach carries over 5 states, I see weekly reminders why it's important to not become to comfortable and assume tolerance is everwhere. Most of the area we service is rural and quite conservative. The Stranger included a column by Rex Wockner who gives examples of how it can even get tougher outside of our country.
-------------------
THINGS COULD BE WORSE
If you're feeling oppressed you're not paying attention. A little perspective for ñpersecuted" American queers.

by Rex Wockner

Yes, several states and the Bush administration declared war on gays and lesbians in the wake of the U.S. Supreme Court's pro-sodomy decision and Massachusetts' legalization of same-sex marriage. No argument there. But while this sucks, life was massively suckier over the past 12 months for gays in many other parts of the world. Here are a selection of international horror stories that will hopefully help gays and lesbians in the United States keep their oppression in perspective.

July 7, 2003:
Police in Bishkek, capital of the former Soviet republic of Kyrgyzstan, are routinely demanding hush money from gay men who place personal ads on the Internet or in the newspaper. Victims say they have been lured to apartments, interrogated, beaten, tortured, and forced to turn over around $50 to prevent being outed to their families and employers.

September 5, 2003:
Imprisoned Uzbek gay journalist Ruslan Sharipov sent a letter begging for help to UN Secretary General Kofi Annan. Activists say Sharipov was coerced into pleading guilty to sodomy, sex with minors, and running a brothel after authorities tortured him and threatened to harm his mother. The government targeted him to silence his journalistic criticism of human-rights abuses and police corruption, activists claim. Sharipov wrote: "They put a gas mask on my head and sprayed an unknown substance into my throat, after which I could hardly breathe. They also injected an unknown substance into my veins and warned me that if I did not follow their instructions they would give me an injection of the AIDS virus."

October 6, 2003
: Egypt continues to arrest gay men by the hundreds. In the latest incident, Cairo police blocked both ends of a cruisy bridge and grabbed 62 men. They face up to three years in prison for "habitual practice of debauchery." "These arrests are only the latest in a two-year official campaign against homosexual conduct," said Human Rights Watch.

October 20, 2003:
The Chapel of the Vladimir Icon of the Mother of God, the Russian Orthodox chapel in which Russia's first same-sex wedding was conducted on September 1, was demolished after local church leaders determined it had been desecrated.

Nov. 17, 2003:
Greece's Mega Channel was fined $117,000 by the National Radio and Television Council for showing a male-male kiss on the weekly drama Close Your Eyes.

December 6, 2003:
Police officers viciously beat two gay men in Kathmandu, Nepal. Jag Bahadur Lama, 28, and Mani Lama, 20, were attacked near Ratna Park, first by hoodlums, then by officers from a passing police van. The police put the couple inside the van and kicked them and bashed them with rifle butts for an hour, then drove them to a barracks, beat them further, and forced them to fellate numerous officers. The Nepalese gay group Blue Diamond Society said such attacks are common.

January 17, 2004:
Taipei, Taiwan, police raided a "gay orgy" at a private apartment and detained 92 men for alleged illegal drug use. The detainees were subsequently force-tested for sexually transmitted diseases. Twenty-eight tested HIV-positive and 46 had syphilis, local media reported. Only 14 of the HIV carriers were listed on the government's official tally of people with HIV.

March 5, 2004:
Zimbabwean president Robert Mugabe erupted again. He said: "Let us never entertain the theory that man and man can form a family. It's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Adam, Eve and Eve." In previous eruptions, Mugabe has stated: "What an abomination.... Animals in the jungle are better than these people.... I don't believe they have any rights at all."

March 12, 2004:
Ecuadorian gay activist Patricio Ordóñez Maico was knifed in the chest and back in the Quito office of the gay group Friends for Life Foundation by an attacker who shouted, "I'm going to kill you, you son of a bitch." The attack happened a week after Ordóñez spoke at a human-rights meeting about a complaint he filed against National Police officers who allegedly assaulted him, sexually abused him, and threatened to kill him.

March 29, 2004:
A groundbreaking resolution on gay rights was scuttled again this year at the 60th session of the United Nations Commission on Human Rights in Geneva. Sponsored by Brazil, the resolution "calls upon all States to promote and protect the human rights of all persons regardless of their sexual orientation." Brazil withdrew the measure before it came up for a vote, saying that Muslim nations and the Vatican had enough clout to defeat it.

March 31, 2004:
Singapore's Registrar of Societies refused to register the gay organization People Like Us and ordered its members to cease activity. The agency said registering the group would violate the Societies Act's ban on organizations that are "likely to be used for unlawful purposes or for purposes prejudicial to public peace, welfare, or good order in Singapore."

April 14, 2004:
The legislature of the Indian Ocean island of Zanzibar, which is part of Tanzania, voted unanimously to ban homosexuality. Gay male relationships will be punished with 25 years in prison and lesbian relationships with 7 years in prison.

May 7, 2004:
Two hundred skinheads pelted 1,500 gay-pride marchers with firecrackers, eggs, bottles, and rocks, then fought with police for several hours in the Old Town Square of Krakow, Poland.

May 18, 2004:
A court in Yemen convicted three journalists of violating the nation's morals and customs for writing a story about gays. The article in the newspaper This Week quoted men jailed for engaging in gay sex.

June 1, 2004:
Amnesty International launched an urgent campaign asking people to write Jamaican prime minister P. J. Patterson insisting he protect gays from violence and legalize gay sex. "Amnesty International has received many reports of vigilante action against gay people... and of ill-treatment or torture by the police," the group said. "Gay men and women have been beaten, cut, burned, raped, and shot on account of their sexuality."

June 9, 2004:
Jamaica's best-known gay activist was murdered in Kingston. Brian Williamson, 59, was found lying in a pool of blood in his bedroom with multiple knife wounds. "The condition of his body... and his visibility as a gay man lead us to suspect this is a hate-related crime," said the Jamaica Forum for Lesbians, All-Sexuals and Gays.

June 17, 2004:
Prime Minister John Howard's proposed bans on same-sex marriage and adoption of foreign babies by gay couples passed Australia's lower house and moved to the senate. "People can have their relationships, it's just that they can't have their relationships ascribed the characteristic of marriage when marriage is a relationship between a man and a woman," said Attorney General Philip Ruddock.

June 18, 2004:
The group Queer Somali said the biggest problem for Somali gays is fear they will be murdered. "My people don't understand what a homosexual is," said activist Faro. "They only know that through their religious law, the solution is to kill."

June 18, 2004:
Zealots from India's Shiv Sena party trashed movie theaters in several cities to halt screenings of the new lesbian-themed Indian film Girlfriends. They broke windows, destroyed posters, and burned effigies. Gay activists denounced the movie as homophobic.

Although there are several nations that are friendlier to gays than the U.S. --Canada, the Netherlands, Denmark, and others--the fact remains, we live in one of the 10 most gay-advanced countries on the planet. Gays and lesbians in 182 other nations can't say that. Happy Pride.

Rex Wockner has covered international news since 1988. His work has appeared in 350 gay newspapers around the world.
----------------------

A short entry and then I'm taking 2 benedryl to guarantee a long, good night's sleep. I am so bone tired I can barely keep my head up. Today is Sir's birthday. So after work I ran over to my new digs to hand over a deposit. From there I needed to run to another apartment for a viewing with a family member. I saw it yesterday and thought they may like it. They did. And then I quickly headed over to Septieme's to enjoy a birthday dinner with Sir and one of his other former students.

It was a nice albeit quiet dinner. I was bushed and therefore not much of a conversationalist. Sir was tired as well. Now I'm home. On the ride back here I realized that except for last weekend, I've been clocking 13 to 15 hour days between work, my apartment stuff, the other apartment stuff for family and fundraiser stuff for the Eagle on the 4th of July. As an introvert who needs to have a few hours alone each day to regroup, I'm on serious overload.

This pace is expected to continue until Sunday. I'm working Friday and as of right now it's almost a sure bet I'll be working on Saturday also. Sigh.

Vacation is definitely needed. Life is not bad right now, but it is way too full.

Anyway, that's not what I wanted to right about. This is. Wonderboy came with me to see my new apartment. I cherish his opinion and I know he'll be honest. He enjoyed it although he had the same concern regarding size. But he understands where I'm coming from and sees it as a good move. We parted ways and I then sat with the owner to fill out paperwork.

One thing I hate the most about apartment hunting is filling out the many applications. Three years ago I came up with a new system. My rental resume. On one sheet of paper I've printed out all the information generally requested in rental apps. It includes rental history, work and personal references, work history, education, bank info etc. I've noticed that's one way to impress a potential landlord. They will hand me the multi page app with all its little boxes to squish your info into and I whip out my resume. It never fails. Astonishment floods their faces. Then they staple it to their application and I'm done!

Tonight after I transferred my information to the owner, I gave him my deposit. He looked at me, grabbed my hand to shake it and exclaimed "Welcome Home!"

It was a sincere gesture. And it warmed my cockles. I have no doubt that I've made the right decision.

He then shared more information about some of the other tenants. "Not too many extroverts here and all quirky in their own way. There's a nice mix of personalities."

There is a woman on the second floor who is a metal sculptor. Her apartment holds her large anvil. She shows her work in New York. The oil painter is on my floor. Also many on the third floor (my floor) are east coast artists...mostly New York.

Cool, eh?

While checking in with wonderboy a little bit ago, he mentioned that he enjoyed the feel of the place. He was trying to find the word for it. I mentioned that when Sir saw it, one word came to mind for him. Bohemian. "That's it!" said wonderboy, "that's the word."

I wonder what these bohemians will think if they ever see my paintings of bondage and cages, portraits I've painted of myself in suspension...flying off the floor, images of Sir's St. Andrew's cross and his boots interspersed with paintings of fairly traditional still lifes and a few landscapes. And then there is the series that is still under wraps. Will they freak or appreciate the work for what it is? Time will tell.

So much for my short post. Night all.

Ha!

I had barely finished posting the earlier blog and checked email. Mark Morford's new column, "Because Dubya Said So! Why prolong this insidious war? Gouge the economy? Rape the environment? Only one retort left.", was patiently waiting for me.

Within, I found:

"Why continue this hideous, bloody invasion that is failing on every front? Because we said so. Why continue gouging the economy like pigs in a trough? Because we said so. How can raping the Clean Air Act and increasing logging in national parks and rolling back 30 years of environmental progress and dissing the Kyoto treaty and molesting the planet in the name of massaging the testicles of your corporate cronies in Big Oil and Big Industry possibly be healthy for the planet? Because we said so.

How can hacking away at women's rights and endorsing homophobia in any way progress the evolution of the battered human soul? Because we said so. How can banning stem-cell research possibly be anything but a nasty and ridiculous and harmful decision that only strokes the bloody Bible of your wildly ignorant right-wing Christian voting bloc? You guessed it -- because we said so."

Want to read the rest? Sure you do.

Good morning!

Yesterday I didn't stop until about 11 pm, when I got home. This afternoon I am signing the papers on my new apartment. Yup...biting the bullet.

I was thinking of the latest beheading of the South Korean man. I was thinking of the previous beheading. I was thinking of the torture our government used on Iraqi prisoners. I was thinking of all the killing and bloodshed.

Do I have any answers? No. But this eye for an eye stuff just ain't working. When is someone going to get that through their thick skulls? Maybe it's time for some way out of the box thinking. What if our leaders had the courage to even attempt to begin to look at creating different solutions? Ummm...maybe something that didn't involve violence?

As I said, I have no answers. Simply questions. So when do we stop banging our heads against the wall and realize that our current tactics aren't working?

When I received Rob Brezsny's astrology email this morning, I noticed he included quotes before the horoscopes. Considering my recent thoughts, these are timely. You may think it's woowoo, but too bad. Here it is anyway:

"For one human being to love another is the most difficult task. It's the
work for which all other work is preparation."
-Rilke

"Some day after we have mastered the winds, the waves and gravity, we
will harness for God the energies of love; and then for a second time in the
history of the world, humans will have discovered fire."
- Teillard de Chardin

"Everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
- Leo Tolstoy

"If you do not love too much, you do not love enough."
- Pascal

"Until you have loved, you cannot become yourself."
- Emily Dickinson

And now for the rest of Brezsny's weekly wisdom.

The falcon babies are fledging. It looks like 2 still in the nest box, there are another two on top, and one on the rail. Of course if you catch the birdcam later you'll see something different.

I'm home. I saw it.

Thinking out loud...

Before I begin, note that 3 of my last 4 apartments have been 900 to 1100 square feet. For myself. Granted, I sold mostly everthing when I moved to Seattle. My current apartment and the one before (both 900 sq. ft) have a lot of empty storage space. They aren't full.

The new apartment really isn't much larger than the first one I saw. They all have a separate kitchen that I could fit (barely) my table in...but could. And they have a built in dresser/storage area. So the one big room living space is 13x16. Now that I'm at home, I've been doing some measuring. My living space here is 10x12. I have stuff in my current living room that I don't really need, nor would I miss. So, if I pulled out the excess...it would leave me with a love seat, a rocker and a little coffee table that I'm currently using for my computer.

In the new place I would get rid of the love seat and replace it with a single bed/couch combo thingy or futon. You see...I don't really need the full bed. I like sleeping alone. Yeah there's room to fuck on a single, but anything more for me is wasted space. Although if I picked up a futon, then I'd always have the option of a full bed contained within.

More thinking...my dresser could go in the large closet with much room to spare.

The kitchen is set. My kitchen/dining room stuff would fit in the new place.

I have a tall thin bookcase that stays with me. I think it's about 3 feet wide by 12 inches deep. 6 feet high. Gotta keep my artbooks with me. And smut.

That leaves whatever is in my studio.
-One easel
-One shelving unit that stores stuff, magazines for ideas and still life objects. (about the size of the bookcase, but a little deeper)
-A drop leaf table that I use for my palette, brushes, mediums. I can use something smaller, no big deal.
-one metal cart on wheels (the older kitchen carts that can hold a microwave). Quite handy because at times I set up my subject on there and can move it around. Need to keep. Moveable stuff is handy in a small space.

So...to summarize, the big room would definitely have a bed/couch thingy, little computer table, bookcase, easel, rolling cart. I can do without the drop leaf and possibly do away with the shelving.

Kitchen stuff in kitchen, dresser in closet, bathroom stuff in bathroom. I have 3 little wooden tables (not tv tray/tables!) that fold up and out of the way. I'll keep those. Good to have extra little tables and they don't take any room when stored.

I think this is manageable.

So...size was the downside. Wanna hear the upside?

For the last 12 years, my 4 apartments have been top floor corner units. It's my druthers. That way I don't feel closed in. Isn't that odd coming from a bondage pig?

The first one I saw on Friday was on the 2nd floor, smack in the middle. The new one today was top floor corner unit. If I had to pick the best corner of the building, this is it! 3 windows against one wall, 2 against the other and then the 3rd on that side in the kitchen. As soon as the owner opened the windows there was some serious cross ventilation.

All the windows make the unit more spacious. I get north and western light.

The tile on the kitchen counter is brand new. They are 2x2 tiles, deep cobalt blue. Really sweet. Not a flat blue, but it's a varied kinda color. Yeah...so much for my knowing technical terms tonight. And my current kitchen is filled with mostly blue and pale yellow. It makes this easy.

The floor in the new bathroom had been painted a turquoise/sea green. It's the same color as the shower curtain I currently have! I originally chose that color because it was my homage to the ocean. And I accent with yellows, muted orange and purple.

This apartment will lend itself to color well. I have no desire to paint the walls because the walls will be filled with paintings. Unless...I use a deep green/taupe type of color. I can't explain the color but I know it when I see it. And I've seen it. In a few museums for special exhibits. Every painting hung on those walls stood out with an extra punch. It's a fucking rich color. Substantial and shifts with the light that hits it. I don't have to worry about it making the room too dark because of all the windows.

The extra $30/m in rent is so worth a top corner apartment flooded with light.

Oh yeah, remember the stained carpeting I spoke of yesterday? Well they've begun intense carpet cleaning. And they started at the top. I couldn't believe it was the same carpet!

Another plus? Only a $200 deposit. It gets better. That $200 will hold the apartment for one month! I told the owner I couldn't move in until July 28 or 29th. Apparently not a problem.

Also, while at work today, I discovered that the grocery story/lounge in the diagonal corner of this block is getting torn down. Permits came through. That's the very spot where most of the drug activity happens.

Sounds like this is all falling into place nicely, isn't it?

I told the owner I'd give him an answer by Wednesday. It looks like I'll be handing him a check.

Am I scared? Absolutely. Literally shrinking my living space terrifies the bejesus out of me. I hear this little voice in my head that says:
"You're 44 and you're supposed to move up not down."
"You should be working toward home ownership."
"You want a large place to entertain and have people go gaga over."
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"You're going to be living like a college student."

It seems to me those are voices I need to silence.

This will force me to look at my painting. Slam my passion in my face. In spite of the fear that I feel, I think I'm ready. I may be scared but not anxious.

Thanks for listening to my ramblings. It helped.

Update on possibly cool apartment.

Remember the apartment I mentioned in yesterday morning's blog? My biggest concern was the size of the space. So I called the owner this morning, to see it again...for me. He mentioned that in addition to the apartment I saw on Friday, he has a larger unit open as well. This one is $590/m. Just $30 more. The tile has been redone...as well as the kitchen. It's a corner unit and filled with light. 6 windows! For a studio...that's a shitload of windows!

Can you say jazzed???

Oh yeah, another little tidbit. The owner then mentioned that the apartment manager happens to be a video journalist for the PBS station here in town. Yup, sounds like I'd be in great creative company.

So I'm checking it out in a couple hours. I'll keep you posted!

I need a boy. This week.

Thoughts of all I have to do in the next 8 days woke me at 4am. It's not enough to get ready for vacation, but continue training the amazing person who'll step in for me while I'm gone, assist Sir with a bunch of details, wrap up the logistics for the fundraiser at the Eagle including finding a bbq person to take my place...and on and on and on.

Oh yea...finish shopping for shorts. Ewww. I hate shopping. I did head out with wonderboy on Saturday and finally bought sandals. My old ones kissed the dumpster when I noticed the soles were split. These are black and incredibly comfortable walking sandals. My feet are happy.

Now to focus on work. Be back later.

Another busy day...albeit fun.

Sir had a couple of appointments on the Hill today and so I needed to take him there. I parked the car near the reservoir and noticed the annual Drag Queens vs. Dykes softball game was under way. But we didn't have time to check it out. There were two quick appointments and then I figured we'd be back by 3:30 or so. But The Cuff was holding a Father's Day chili feed on their back patio, and Sir wanted to attend. We went.

First thing - 85 degree weather with full sun and no clouds did not make the idea of hot chili very appetizing. But they had burgers and dogs also. We spent 4 hours...talking and playing. Yeah, Tall Top was there with a big grin when he saw me. Once again, severely tortured nipples. At one point he pulled off his belt and got my thighs. Fireplay Top joined in the fray. Kilt man showed up a couple hours later and left his marks as well. Fun times. They made a group decision and said I was the official community toy. Heehee. Yanno, it could be worse.

One man came up to me and thanked me. He hadn't played with me but did watch. Just like slim leatherman from the Eagle back in April. He said he enjoyed watching. Someone else, who I didn't know, piped in and dittoed the man's sentiment. Then he said something curious. He said "boys don't react like you do. You are fun to watch."

That's something I hadn't thought of before. And I don't fully believe him. I'm sure there are loads of bottoms of all genders and permutations who would react in a similar fashion. Or maybe I'm just not seeing in myself what these men see in me. Thing is I don't really believe in the one sex does this, another that, kind of thinking. But that's another thought for another day.

So I was tweaked, slapped, more breath control play, pinched, grabbed and doused. My clothes were quite soaked at one point. Front and back. It makes for one satisfied pig.

I'm sitting here, tired, hot and not hungry but eating a little something because it's been a while and much energy expended since my hot dog at The Cuff.

Now what interests me is how I wrote about attention earlier today. I mentioned there are some types of attention that are okay. But I fear other types. When it comes to play I don't mind the attention at all. S/M is as much a part of me as my painting. Yet with painting...we have a different story. So why?

I'm back. I've been busy. It's been hot, hot, hot. And yesterday my ISP was down most of the day.

I guess it's my turn as a Seattle blogger to complain about the heat. Hoss, Lydia and Auxugen have spoken of our weather. What's up with the heat? In the 6 years I've lived here, I pleasantly discovered that we may have a couple weeks in the summer where it's above 80. I'm fine up to 75. But I could put up with the heat because it didn't carry the oppressive humidity that New England would have. Well I've discovered I've become spoiled. I do hate heat. It wipes me out. Wednesday and Thursday I stayed in the office late, taking advantage of the airconditioning and quiet to get work done. Leaving at 7 pm meant no traffic and temps that had dropped to make it bearable.

Friday I spent from 10 am until 6 pm looking at about 8 apartments with a member of my leather family. It was hot and bright. In between viewings, during large gaps of time, we'd find ourselves at Cafe Septieme's enjoying a drink and a little food. Apartment hunting is work. These are potential rentals for him. My apartment hunting is put on hold, until after my vacation. Or so I thought.

As Lydia wrote yesterday, I may have found my apartment.

Here's the back story. At work, I park my car on the street near a large brick apartment building. There are garden plots between the sidewalk and the street. For the longest time, whenever I walk past these little plots, I've been so tempted to reach down and weed...tend to them. Odd isn't it? I've never had that urge with a strange garden patch before. In the last month I've wondered what the apartments look like. I don't work in the best neighborhood. It's one of the toughest. Hookers found dead in the dumpster in back of my office. Cops continually cruising the streets. Folks selling crack at the corner. And I've seen discarded needles on the grass while walking the 50 steps to my office door. It is a neighborhood in transition. New pricey condos are being built. A couple blocks away a large grocery store with luxury apartments is also under construction. It will be interesting to see what happens to the area.

Just this week while again walking past the apartment building I wondered if they had vacancies.

Well, as I was setting times to see rentals, I was given an address. I wrote it down correctly but my head thought it was a couple blocks away from my office. Driving to the appointment I realized it was the very building I've been so curious about for so long.

That's the first creepy feeling.

We walked into the lobby. It's an old, tired building. On the right there is some colorful, comfy old thrift store furniture in one corner...a little sitting area. On the left, against the wall are the mailboxes. I noticed that most of the name labels were decorated in a funky, artsy eclectic way. I smiled. Proceeding down the hallway, it's dark and the carpet old and stained. The doors of every apt. is painted in a Jackson Pollock fashion...with muted colors, but brighter than Pollock's work. I smiled some more. We walked up to the second floor and into a studio apartment. Medium size studio. It's not as small as many we saw that day, but not as large as a few from a week ago. I noticed the floor immediately. For some reason that's the first thing I notice with any potential rental. Hardwood floor. And not refinished and shiny, which gave me a comforting feel. It's the type of floor I'd imagine in a painting studio. I wouldn't fear spilling paint the way I do in carpeted rooms or floors that have been refinished. There's a separate kitchen with a large window facing the street. Tiny, kinda squished but bright. Someone had painting the trim in the kitchen lime green.

There are two big windows in the main living space, also facing the street. These windows can open from the top or the bottom. The odd blinds that hang can be pulled from the top or bottom as well. Although a great apartment, it was too small for the man I was with. As we stepped out of the apartment, the owner mentioned there is a photography studio as well as an oil painting studio downstairs. My ears perked. He then added that at one time there was a glass blowing kiln down there as well. It's a building with artists! This building also has free offstreet parking, and available garden plots out back for tenant use. The manager's wife is the one who has the photo studio.

Leatherman caught all this, looked at me, a big grin on his face and said "if you don't move here I'll be mad at you!" He continued, "let's go for a marguerita. We need to talk."

I was shaking when we left the building. Was the universe hitting me over the head?

We walked into the mexican restaurant, located between the building and my office and sat down in the cool, quiet restaurant. Leatherman began talking. He mentioned that I really needed to think about the space. He did say there were 2 disadvantages. One, I need to set clear boundaries with my office. Simply because I was a two minute walk, they can't expect me to be accessible in my off time to pop in because someone has a question, needs a key or to reboot the server. I agreed. The same thought occured to me. Exceptions aren't a problem, but it cannot become a routine thing.

The second concern he had is the neighborhood being in flux. He mentioned that many years ago he lived in such an enviroment. It got ugly before it got better. So..it means I need to be fully aware when walking from my car to the building late at night. Or as he put it, "don't be dizzy."

Here's the other kicker. I would be almost directly across the street from a Zen Buddhist center. Although I am not a Buddhist in a formal sense regarding ritual and attending a temple, just knowing it's there is comforting to me. It is the pocket of balance and peace in a neighborhood that carries much pain.

Leatherman then mentions the obvious good points of living there. And he added..."you can paint naked, with the windows open!" He's right. I could open the windows from the top, pull up the blinds from the bottom...keep the fresh air coming in, and paint naked. Sigh. Heaven.

One other huge bonus. The apartment is $200 less a month than my current place. And with no commute, that's an additional $100/m gas savings, let alone wear and tear on my car. $300 a month in my pocket...to pay bills and then save for an Apple laptop.

So I am excited. And as Lydia mentioned in her blog yesterday, my heart is there. She listened to me and saw.

Now me being me, nothing is quite a simple as it seems. So here are my additional drawbacks. First I do need to see the apartment again. This time with eyes that envision my stuff not someone else's. Can I fit in the space? Or will it be too small? Big concern.

The second is intriguing. My shrink is gone for a week. Of course something big always seems to happen in our last sessions before time away. We were talking about art. My painting. Or lack thereof. He pushed the button in the last 2 minutes of our meeting. I mentioned that I've always known...know because I know because I know, that if I dove into my painting, I would become famous. I explained that I am not talking about what I know as success, but what our society considers success to be...which I detest. After a little bit, I clarified my thought. What I really meant was, if I painted, people would pay attention to me. And I'm obviously fearful of attention. Certain types of attention. I'm an exhibitionist on some level. There are some types of attention I like and desire. But other forms scare me. What do I do with it? The shrink, doing what he's paid to do, asks "why do you fear attention?"

The music comes on and our session ends. Lovely.

I thank him, wish him a good week and leave the office. Shaking.

I ran into the bathroom before leaving the building. While in there, I cried. And I knew. This had to be one of the quickest lightbulb moments. I fear attention because I didn't grow up with it. My childhood showed a lack of attention because I was the oldest and the babies came fast and furious. Simply a fact of life. So although I craved the attention, not having it is my safe place. The devil known.

Other things.
Growing up in a very comfortable, upper middle class neighborhood is part of my past. I look for a certain style and flavor to my surroundings. It's not the IKEA look, although I've taken pieces from there to accent my enviroment. When I first moved to Seattle, my apartment was on the cusp of a similar neighborhood. It felt settled, safe and secure. Unfortunately it doesn't lend itself to my raw, dirty creative energy.

I was choosing apartments based on my upbringing and who my parents are. Not on who I am. Now I am not saying that I need to let go of all the material and strip myself of nice things. There is nothing wrong with that type of life. But if it is stifling my passion, my work, then maybe it's wrong for me. It is difficult for me to cut loose when everything is too neat and pretty. I feel the same way with my s/m. That's why I'm not into being part of the mainstream 'what is out there now' s/m community. Danger and dark is the name of my game.

My most productive painting spell was my last year in school. I worked fairly independently. Many times alone. But I was in a building that seeped frenetic, creative life. I could taste it and smell it.

Also I am coming to a place where I believe I need to live with my work. Whenever I've stepped into my studio space and sat...spend at least 5 minutes, I've discovered that, given the time, I will begin to work. Otherwise, out of sight, out of mind. I end up with other distractions.

I'm sure I won't have this need the rest of my life, but it seems to be critical right now. My work needs to stare at me...while eating, while on the computer, while sleeping.

If this new apartment is large enough, at this time in my life, I need to make the leap. It's a big one.

The eyasses on the birdcam come to mind. Anytime now they will fledge. I've watched it the last few years, always in awe. Imagine. You are born. Little by little you grow and become stronger. Wings are tested, flapping away, feathers flying. Hopping out to the perch, you stretch out these newly formed wings. Flapping intensely, you test and find you've lifted yourself off the ground. After a few of these hops...at some magical point, you have the courage to leap. Watching these baby falcons has shown me how amazing and brave that feat is.

So, is it my time? Methinks it may be.