Beautiful, Strange

Winter Walk III

Went to therapy session no. 2 today. The first session was held in the break room because all of the regular rooms were being used. I did not care for the bright lights and lay out of the room, but this week the session was held in a pleasant space with dusky light - perfect. Jessica, my therapist, seemed open and warm and this led to a discussion of things which I had not planned on navigating.

Jessica steered me into the territory of my recent split with Rachel. I can understand why she did this because it would appear to be more important than my dilemma with social parties. As the session sped along I couldn't help but recognize that how I talked with certain friends was similar to how I was opening up with Jessica. However, some of the topics brought up I most likely would not discuss with a friend.

While I have been neglecting to work on my current drawing, I have been practicing hard with the guitar, and a few days ago made another breakthrough. I have been working on the classical piece Asturias for the past 6-7 months, after 12 or 13 measures the fingering becomes more complex with a consistent wide stretch between the 1 and 4 finger. This stretch prevents me from playing the passage correctly due to the 4 finger not being strong enough to maintain proper pressure upon the fret. When I played the passage this week the 4 finger had finally become strong enough to hold the string in position - it is beautiful and strange to observe how the body and mind slowly adapt to the wishes of the will....

Drawing in Progress

Drawing in Progress

Restructuring

Winter Walk I

The past few days have reminded me of my existential struggles of 25 years ago. As the time of my first therapy session moved closer, my mind began sifting through the important moments of my inner life. Painful memories buried deep under the shadows of many seasons resurfaced as I tried to make sense of my experiences under the new light of autism. All of the odd behaviors and inclinations and rueful experiences began to settle into a new and clearer reality. As if I was a scientist searching for years through random sequences of numbers, trying to find some kind of order and logic, and finally, by chance, the numbers fall into place, a pattern emerging.

In a way the whole thing makes me sad, as I see that all along I was destined for loneliness and isolation. Eventually I realized there was no use trying to break through a brick wall, so I turned away and accepted my fate, which allowed me to live in peace. Along the way I met a few people who I felt comfortable with, and who accepted me. For this I am blessed and lucky, for it could have instead been years of solitude and silence.

When I arrived at the therapy session the doctor asked one question and that set me off on an hour long ramble of spoken thoughts. While I usually don't subject people to that kind of monologue, I have to admit it felt good as it is the only time that my words have any meaning. I thought of a couple of people I used to work with at the Nature Center and laughed to myself that I should have been paying them by the hour because they would let me ramble on about things and were kind enough not to fall asleep on me.

I am not sure what the doctor thinks of me or my problem, but I can see the value is not so much what I say during the session, but all that goes on before and after - it is back to trying to understand my mind and how it relates to the world and the things which inhabit it - picking through memories of events and emotions and faces and things gone bad or good.

I sense that having the knowledge that I was born different than most is going to alter the way I think and act in the future. I used to believe I was just like everyone else, but now I know better. I can see myself in the future being reluctant to speak with words, avoiding unnecessary contact with people I don't feel comfortable with. It is the way it should be - I was born with a poison, but also, luckily, the antidote - a mind which is never bored, and which sees and senses immense beauty in every passing moment.

The Autism Post II

A couple of days ago I made the decision to schedule an appointment to see a therapist. If ever I was to see a therapist, now seems to be the least likely time. More appropriate would have been when I was 16, trying to figure out how to feel comfortable when surrounded by large groups of people. Or when 21, feeling isolated and lonely during my first year at the university. It wasn't until I was 23 that I began to feel a sense that everything was fine, that all I really had to do was just Be.

I cured myself, but of what I did not know. The years of silent struggle were known only to me, and this was made clear when one of my college friends once derisively said, “what have you ever had to struggle with?” I laughed and cried to myself when he uttered those ignorant words. I forgave him his ignorance, for how could he know what I had passed through – it all happened inside my mind, and I never spoke of it to anyone.

Today, at 44 years, my mind has mellowed and matured. Being recently confronted with a dissolving marriage caused only a ripple upon its alert, tranquil surface. My cure, found 21 years ago, remains solid and secure. But the root cause of my earlier troubles is still intact, intertwined with my life, and something which cannot be removed.

One day last year I sat down to read my favorite running blog, and began reading “The Autism Post”. The only thing I knew about autism, was, well, after finishing The Autism Post, I realized I knew nothing of it. But that day I learned that I very well could be afflicted with one of its variations. Many of the symptoms described in the post applied to me. What startled me most was discovering that I could possess such a condition since birth and not find out about it until I was 43 years old. It reminded me of the stories I had read of people on their deathbeds, realizing they had never done what they really wanted to do, and if only they had a chance to go back in time they would tell the people in the world to go fuck themselves, because now they were going to do what they wanted to do! - Alas, it is too late, and they take their last defeated breath in silent anguish.

While I felt a sense of relief at finding out about my possible condition, I was disappointed that knowledge of it had come so late. I had already worked through the most troubling symptoms, and maybe it was a good thing I had to do it on my own, but if I had known earlier it could have perhaps prevented some unnecessary grief.

The recent event which tipped the balance inside my mind was a retirement party at my place of employment. The familiar dread of having to attend a social function for 4 hours inside a small, brightly lit room packed with people began to creep its way into my consciousness, and as the day drew near I searched for excuses for nonattendance. With the event a few days away it occurred to me that the feelings which I felt about it were not logical of cause and effect - why would I choose to skip a work event, knowing that not attending would make me look bad and thus harm my reputation with people I see everyday? I was happy that I was cognizant of this fact, and is the only reason I attend the annual Christmas party and autumn retreat. It would not be an exaggeration to say that I would prefer to experience physical torments, e.g., spending 4 hours in a dental chair with a continuous intrusion of drills and needles, than to sit in a room filled with people whom I know, but do not understand. I questioned how something which appears so innocent could give me the impression that I was being asked to commit a great crime, such as murder or rape - attending was such an affront to my senses that it felt like a breach of personal ethics.

The odd thing is that no anxiety or fear accompanies this sense of dread. Indeed, one of the things which I discovered in my early 20's is that anxiety is useless, and fear one of the stupidest things a person can abuse themselves with. So if anxiety and fear of people is not the cause of my dread, what is?

Not being able to answer the above question, I decided it was the correct time to seek out a therapist who knows something of mind disorders, and to discover if I am afflicted with a type of autism. Never having been to a therapist I do not know what to expect, but I keep thinking back to my negative experiences with guitar teachers – one did not listen, the other listened with too much ego. I know that who I will be speaking with is a fallible person who possesses no absolute truth, but maybe hearing a dose of relative knowledge could help put into perspective what I have had to experience throughout my life. After 44 years of botched attempts at fitting in when forced to by external circumstance, I shout emphatically - uncle!

Little Known Bird of the Inner Eye II

7 Notes +

Yesterday while practicing guitar I was doing one of the Principles exercises and my fingers and hand tension loosened considerably at the half way point (did the exercise for about an hour), allowing for faster and more accurate movement. While my fingers seemed relaxed when I started, it was shocking to feel the switch. I had a very slight impression of what a good violinist or master guitarist feels like when playing.

I was reminded of the year of meditation study in my early 20's, when one day after months of practice something switched in my brain - the normal state, which I thought to be relaxed and aware, moved into an altogether different realm, making me feel foolish and ignorant. One of the first thoughts which arrived was "do most people live like this, with everyone forgetting to tell me how to get there"? After reflection, I realized the answer was no, because most people who came into contact with me were angry, confused, and violent.....

(As I write this in the corridor of the Square, an older couple just walked by discussing the following - "I wonder how many people actually still use film anymore", "yeah, not many", "you know, develop their own film, use a darkroom" "professionals maybe". I looked up wondering why in the world they would be discussing something as arcane as film photography, when my mind made the connection - they probably had just come from the b/w photography exhibit at the coop, where some ((myself included)) had submitted silver prints developed in a darkroom. I had completely forgotten about the exhibit, and now I am inspired to maybe go and see it).

......and so I am wondering how many more levels are possible with finger/hand relaxation - maybe it depends upon the amount of time I practice and how much luck I possess. I have been watching some of the videos posted of students at the Principles website and a few of them practice more than I do yet seem tight and tentative. I guess like with anything, a bit of genetics luck is required.

As the night got late I decided to plug the electric in and make some music. I hooked the ipod to the amp and put it on shuffle. I discovered that I now have the ability to not only find the right key, but can listen to a riff and after working for a few minutes find the notes to play it. One of my favorite Lanterna songs began and I soon was able to play along with the riff. This made me happy, and after I got tired and put the guitar down it occurred to me that I can find the notes of any riff just by playing along 1 string. I almost always forget that the standard musical language has only 7 whole notes, and a handful of in-betweens. When compared to a spoken language, this seems very manageable.

I am also getting more skilled with bending.vibrato, my mind/body figuring out that if the thumb presses into the wood as I am making the movement, the bend/vibrato becomes easier to execute.

One thing which still eludes me is how to make a fast run of notes. I believe I have the necessary coordination but I have not learned how to sequence the placing of fretting fingers and pick. When I watch videos of fast playing I see that the pick is hardly moving at all, maybe 1 pick and then 4 or 5 notes are played until another pick, which tells me that the fretting fingers are pressing down making the notes sound out. Thus far this does not seem doable, but I will keep working on it.

Little Known Bird of the Inner Eye

I am beginning to create a way of living which is meaningful, enjoyable, and filled with mystery and excitement. I have been somewhat successful in eliminating the things which bring me no peace and do not contribute to my well being. I no longer read news written by the government, and have stopped following sports. Because of this my mind must confront from moment to moment what is directly in front of it - useless details and harmful gossip (which is what 99% of news and sports is) no longer have the opportunity to poison my mind.

By adding meditation to the recent subtractions, my life is once again thriving in a world created by my own imagination. Time has slowed, productivity is high, and common activities, such as cooking and eating a meal, allow for reflections upon the day's rich experiences.

While at work yesterday I was contemplating how to spend the rest of the day after leaving the office at noon. I decided that I would walk to the Square and work on another drawing.

Upon arriving at home I packed a lunch, hot tea, the laptop, and my drawing materials. I also carried with me 3 framed photographs, which I dropped off at the Art Coop (a new store at the Square), which is having an open b/w photography exhibit. I normally do not enter my photographs into competitions, but since there is no judge to accept or reject, I decided it would be nice to share a few of my pictures.

After dropping off the photographs I set up at a wooden table in the corridor. I have not yet had the chance to photograph any more old negatives, so while eating leftover pasta I visited my Flickr account and looked at some of the painting-like photographs I had made a couple of years ago. Those images were meant to one day be painted, and last year I began the project by printing 4 of the images on watercolor paper and painting over the ink with paint. The results pleased me, and I have one of the pictures hanging in my apartment.

Since I am now drawing again, I find no reason to print the photo-paintings, as I can draw them instead. While my hand will not be as accurate with lines and perspective, it allows my mind to slow down and closely examine the details of the scene. The process is therefore more meaningful, soothing, and memorable.

I decided upon an image which I entitled Little Known Bird of the Inner Eye, which shows my hand adjacent a sunlit wall spotted with heavy shadows. Upon the wall appears an apparition of a bird. It is one of my more imaginative creations, as the bird did not exist on the wall, and I am unsure where it came from.

After finishing my meal I began the drawing and finished half of the hand. As I began to pack up my materials I checked my email and found a message from Frank Ward, a man who manages a rum refinery in Barbados. Frank owns many of my best photographs, and he told me in his message that he was wondering what I was up to, so he searched for me on the internet and found my Flickr page. He was drawn to the set "Darkroom Work, 2009", and asked if he could buy 6 or 7 of the photographs, if they were still available. The prints in that set were the last of my darkroom work, and I still have many of them. After 18 years of work, all that is left are two boxes of photographs. It will be hard to part with the prints he wants, because I will not be able to replace them, but I won't refuse to sell them to Frank because he already owns many of my best photographs. It is a playful dream of mine to one day visit him in Barbados so that I can view all of the photographs collected together into one sunny room.

Wall Street

Wall Street, Test Sketch #2

Last night I dreamt of the Wall Street drawing. I was working it on a large sheet of paper, but a woman who sat next to me in Lincoln Square a couple of days ago showed up in the dream and looked at the drawing, then asked me to come with her. I did, and I never returned. When I woke, I had trouble deciding which part of the dream I liked better, but was inspired to work on the drawing nonetheless.

After meditating for an hour and cleaning the apt. I decided that rather than work in an isolated environment, it would be more enjoyable to be in a public place, so I packed up my drawing materials, laptop and a small thermos filled with green tea and walked 500 yards to the square. The corridor outside Common Ground is a pleasant area with little foot traffic, a nice place to spend a winter morning.

I pulled up the Wall Street image on the computer and began sketching in the drawing pad. While the dream had inspired me to work it into a large format, I thought it would be a good idea to make a more complete test drawing. Unlike the quick scribble I made a couple of days ago, I started with the hardest part, the side of the bank, followed by the figures.

Initially it was my idea to work in only the three main figures, but as I studied the image I decided that it would be best to include all the people because it seemed more true to the day.

I listened to music on my headphones, scratched down the lines, and soon got into a flow which made me remember my days spent in the darkroom. I could easily work 10-12 hours printing and yet it would feel like an hour. About half way through a young woman sat down next to me and it felt like I had re-entered the previous evening's dream.

Seven hours later I rose from my seat and stretched, too tired to put the finishing touches on the drawing. While I was able to complete the composition, I was unsure how to breathe more life into it. Usually when all the lines are put down the fun begins with the shading and erasing, but my mind was too beat to go any further. I am not sure if I will return to test sketch No. 2, as I plan to one day paint it.

The Beginner's Path

Wall Street

Paul Strand

I am currently working on my second drawing, from a negative exposed during my visit to Manhattan in 1992. I was searching for the spot where Paul Strand stood to make his famous photograph of Wall Street. I recognized the bank with the long, cavernous windows, and then walked up the steps of a building across the street. I sensed that Strand must have stood close by, so I lined up the angles of the building and aimed the camera. There were some elements of the composition I would have liked to erase, such as the bulky news stand and an ugly sign board. There were 3 people standing marvelously synchronized, but there were a few others who stood around looking out of place. I released the shutter and then listened to a black man preaching to a small crowd about racism. A large German man standing with his wife shouted to the black man about lies and the two shouted each other down.

Upon first glance the Wall street composition seems simple enough, so I decided to make a quick test sketch to accustom my mind with the main lines. As I began to scribble I found that the eye had fooled me – while the perspective is straight forward, there are numerous elements which the eye glosses over. I spent a few hours working out the difficult parts. The 3 figures will be challenging, as well as the part where the bank changes direction. I will be happy to leave out the news stand and the unneeded bystanders.

Wall Street, Test Sketch

******

One of the reasons I began this journal is to document the process of learning the guitar. More than my personal progress, I wanted to attempt to understand how a person of average ability goes about learning something complex. After 14 months of practice and progress, it is time to write a summary of the first phase.

The first thing needed was the inspiration to make the decision to practice and learn the guitar for a long period of time. Also helpful was the fact that I knew nothing of the instrument or music theory – I was going in blind, deaf, and dumb. Joseph from work provided the spark for me to buy an electric guitar, and in December, 2009 began the journey.

The next step was deciding how to proceed. Being ignorant left me feeling helpless and overwhelmed. Using the internet I sought out beginner's guides to guitar. I decided upon a site which offered a logical step by step approach. There were 11 chapters, and I am currently on Chapter 9. While being helpful and allowing me to take my first baby steps, what lacked was an overall universal plan which described how I could get to where I wanted to go.

The one thing I did know was where I wanted to be – possessing the knowledge and skill to sit with the guitar and produce sounds which reflected my emotions and ideas. However, I was walking the first mile of a thousand mile trip, and the only guide I had was a few lines drawn in the sand. What I yearned for was a detailed atlas clearly illustrating the traps, dangers, and dead ends which surely awaited me.

Not knowing of any guitar books written like an atlas, I decided a live teacher could show me the way. I chose one at random at the local guitar store, which was probably not the best way to go about finding a guitar sage - not only was I ignorant of the guitar, but also guitar teachers. I knew I had erred when, during the first lesson, the teacher put aside without reading the guitar goals I had taken the time to write out for him. Without knowing who I was and how my mind worked, how could a teacher get me to where I wanted to go?

I soon quit going to the teacher, and did a more diligent search for an appropriate master. I found a pleasant enough young man who was willing to listen to my ideas, goals and concerns, but within a few weeks time he decided he could no longer teach me due to my attitude of disrespect toward teachers in general. The only things I was learning from the master were things which could easily be found on the internet – chords, songs, how to hold the guitar correctly, etc. The purpose of the master was to inspire and make sure I did not lose the way. This second teacher was merely like all of the other teachers in other fields I had come across – a parrot which repeated things found in books.

I decided that while there were probably a few teachers in the world who could fit my idea of what a master should be, I was convinced that finding one would take as long as mastering the guitar. I therefore reluctantly returned to my step by step internet manual.

I was now wandering around in a thick forest, off of any clear pathway. Not wanting to stand still, I decided I had to move forward and used whatever sense I had to bushwhack my way to light and open space. There were times when I felt I wanted to give up, that the darkness which clouded my mind would be too difficult to remove. Yet I knew that these early struggles could be overcome if I just did not give up, so every day I entered the music studio and did what I could.

I continued searching for guides and teachers on the internet. I found a master named Claude who had created a software program which helped with learning patterns on the fretboard. This intrigued me and I began to use it. Claude sent me mass emails every couple of days, and I found his good humor and knowledge to be inspiring.

Soon after finding Claude I discovered a book called the Principles of Correct Guitar Practice. I had read a few of the author's online essays, and the Zen philosophy which flavored the ideas attracted me. I decided to buy the book, hoping it would be a partial atlas which could help guide me.

After reading through the book I was pleased with the direction it could take me. A few “simple” guitar exercises were the only physical things which I had to do. The majority of the book was aimed at creating the proper attitude in the student. I greedily took in these ideas of attitude change and began to practice two of the exercises.

The exercises are aimed at creating a relaxed, yet strong fretting hand, as well as a way to relax the entire body. The principles of Zen were once again evident – focus on the present, correctly breathe, relax the body, and at the proper time use the strength of muscle and mind. This philosophy of guitar is as close as I have come to finding the path which will lead me to where I want to go.

Summary of things learned after year 1 :

• Important to spend time with the guitar as much as possible.

• Fretting exercises should be done with the intent of creating finger strength, autonomy, and relaxation.

• Use effort to learn basic music theory – notes, fret board patterns, scales.

• Keep in mind where I want to go – use of the guitar as a way to express emotions and ideas.

• Spend time playing along to music which interests me (blues, instrumental solos).

• Glean information from as many sources as possible, and always be looking for a master teacher who fits my philosophy of learning.

• Never give up!

Playing the Blues

Lately I have been tuning into internet radio and listening to a stream of various blues music. With my apartment being isolated I do not need to worry about disturbing neighbors so I crank the amp and as it pulses the music I begin jamming on my guitar. Last night I did this and shook my head in wonderment as things which once seemed foreign now occurred without my having to think about it. Finding the correct key used to take me 20 minutes, as I learned more 10, then 5, now it takes between 10-20 seconds. I find one note which sounds correct, move up 2 frets, if that sounds off I know the 3rd fret is good, and I then quickly deduce the pattern I am in, which allows me to create a giant pattern on the whole fretboard.

Along with pattern knowledge, my comfort with the mechanics continues to improve. The pick usually hits the right string and the fretting hand is daily becoming more relaxed, allowing for longer and more accurate movements. This week my string bending and vibrato improved due to increased strength in the hand and fingers. The flow of knowing which notes to pick when soloing is also becoming more intuitive and clear.

All of the above are basics which have to be mastered before any music can be played or created, but as my surprising progress continues to unfold, the music aspect becomes more interesting and varied. It is so much like my experience with photography. When I began I could make 1 good negative out of 100 tries, and as the years went by and the amount of practice time accumulated, that ratio was improved until I was hitting 1 out of every 2, sometimes better. With printing, it took me 5 years before I made a print I liked, but it eventually became normal to produce one good print per darkroom session, sometimes making as many as 5 decent prints in just a few hours. With guitar I still have not made that first good "print", and like photography, it will probably come at the 5 year mark, so 4 more years of struggle until the music begins to magically appear.

With the above being said, the music is gradually surfacing in small chunks. Things appear suddenly out of nowhere - a phrase, melody, or bass line. One recent example being the main riff from Cream's Sunshine of Your Love. By accident I played the first 3 notes of the phrase, recognized it, and then pieced together the remaining 7-10 notes. Last night I found a phrase from a song by The Doors. Along with the well known phrases, I find I am constantly coming up with original ones. It reminds me of the writing process - piecing together words in a pleasing way to convey a mood or atmosphere.

Another new ability is I can now play comfortably standing up. I recall the first time I tried it I pulled a muscle in my foot, strained my neck, and the guitar felt heavy and cumbersome. My muscles have now become adjusted to the weight and shape of the instrument, so things have become much easier.

I have kept my old photography attitude about the learning process. I never wanted to take a photography class because I thought it would hinder my progress - I knew what I wanted, and I had the confidence that my mind and spirit would be able to figure out how to achieve it. In the end that assumption was correct. When I began guitar I recognized that music is more complicated than photography, so I decided a teacher was needed to teach me the basic grammar and spelling rules. Now that I know the bare bones of notes and playing mechanics, I believe the rest of the journey should be traveled alone. I know what I want from music, and the task is to find out how to get it. That after all is the point of doing it - the challenge and fun of bringing into reality the music which already exists inside of me.

Drawing I

Chicago Winter, Morning

Today work was canceled due to a severe winter storm, although I think in this case what the weather was forecast to be influenced the perception of what actually happened. 1 foot of snow isn't exactly stay home weather, but I was happy to remain indoors and work on the drawing which I started last week.

The first session with the drawing I stopped with only 1/4 completed. The perspective of the bridge was a bit tricky, but the fact that I had not made a drawing in so long made my confidence waver when looking upon the initial lines I had put to paper. While I was aware that the beginning of any drawing is not going to look very good, I still doubted whether I could push past the first awkward looking lines.

So I let the drawing sit for 6 or 7 days on my kitchen table where it could taunt me by the hour. A few days ago I had a dream that I sat down to the drawing and picked out a pencil which marked dark, heavy lines. It helped to create the shadows needed to offset the stick figure lines which I had begun with. When I woke from the dream I was pleased and confident that I could finish the drawing. Not only is it pleasurable to observe the mind create detailed works of art, but I now believed that picking a shading pencil would help me finish the drawing.

Today I sat down and chose a thick charcoal pencil and began to draw, shape, shade, erase - my mind got into that special flow where time stops and the only thing that matters are the lines on the page.

Learning to Read

I am becoming accustomed to my new lifestyle. Living alone I have longer strands of uninterrupted moments, and this leads to more focused attention on whatever task is at hand. I have been practicing guitar 1-2 hours a day, my fingers have toughened up quickly after a one month layoff. I have also noticed another jump in progress.

A few weeks ago I decided to buy a cord which hooks up the ipod/computer to the amp. I am not sure why I did not do this earlier, because it is great to have the guitar sound and the backup music emit from the same source (also a nice sound when playing movies from the computer). I have the laptop set up on a small stand next to the amp, and when I want to practice to backing tracks I link to YouTube and jam away (I forgot to mention that I can connect to the city wifi from my apt., but the signal is choppy so it does not work all the time).

Yesterday I wanted to jam to backing tracks but could not get a steady internet signal so I plugged in the ipod and put it on shuffle. For most of the songs I was able to find the appropriate notes/scales and play along easily enough. What surprised me was the ability to play along with any style of song, rather than just blues. But even more than that, I found myself playing without having to over analyze what I was doing - it felt like speaking or writing - After 13 months of practice I had finally reached the point where playing the guitar felt somewhat natural and easy. I felt a comfort with the pentatonic scale which had been missing, I was able to mesh all the patterns along the frets so that it felt like one big pattern, at least for the bottom 3 strings. The coordination between fretting and picking hand had also improved, the two working together without over thinking everything. Consequently the speed increased, which made the notes begin to sound like music. The vibrato was also sounding better, although that still needs a lot of work.

I was reminded of the day I learned to read - sitting in front of the tv watching a Bugs Bunny cartoon (I was 4 or 5 years old), I was able to read the credits at the end of the cartoon - it was a beautiful feeling as I was able to string the words together with speed and clarity to understand the meaning behind the symbols. Having reached the first plateau of the guitar quest makes me excited, and makes me want to practice longer and harder.

Surprise

I was left a voicemail this morning from Dottie at work. She said a letter was waiting for me on my desk, and that I would be pleased with it. I took this to mean that I was offered the job I interviewed for a few days ago. I decided to go into work and retrieve the letter, and a couple of hours later I opened it to find the first sentence of the letter stating that the job had been offered to another applicant. My mind can usually anticipate the correct sequence of cause and effect, but this time I was completely inaccurate in my deduction. Wondering how I could possibly be pleased with not being offered the job, I read on to find that I was being offered expanded duties in my current position, and beginning on May 1st my job would become a 40 hour per week, full time position.

After thinking over the letter I agree with Dottie's prediction that I would be pleased, although the outcome was far from what I had imagined. I get to keep my current position but with 10 added hours initially, and going to 40 on May 1. Completely unexpected, yet still a favorable outcome.

Beachcombing

First Month in Chicago, Winter, 1991

I'm working on settling into my new apt, and am beginning to feel comfortable. The living room has the guitars, amp, and computer, the kitchen is filled with green plants and a table for me to eat and work on, and one of the bedrooms is set up for painting.

Yesterday I listened to one of Will Basinski's Disintegration Loops. The piece is 45 minutes long, I love running to it when I am out on the snowy South Farms route – white space in all directions, the wind messing with my balance and resolve – the music makes everything settle into a dream reality. So yesterday I plugged the piece into my amp, and then picked up the strat guitar. I lit a couple of candles and let the piece sink into the room and I began to hit the strings with the pick. I soon found that the notes F, D, G, and A # worked well with it, it was pretty cool to hear the sounds of the guitar mesh with the music in the amp. After 35 minutes of playing along to the ethereal music I discovered that what I was playing was the G pentatonic scale. Once I realized this I was able to play many more notes, and much quicker, as I have the pentatonic scale memorized. When the piece ended I wanted to play it again but my fingers were sore. The month long lay off has made them a bit soft.

The full time job opening at the UPD will soon be decided. I submitted my resume/cover letter, which I feel confident about, and then I was required to take a test at a local employment agency. I ran 4 miles in snow to get there, and then ran back after I completed the 90 minute test. I feel I did well in 3 of the 4 categories, but I messed up the data entry part by reading the wrong list of numbers. Tomorrow is the final step, a group interview with 5 people at 10:30am. I have no illusions about my interviewing skills, I pretty much suck. I plan to run 8-10 miles at dawn tomorrow, that should put me into a favorable state of mind. Regardless of the outcome, I believe I will be happy with the future direction of my life.

I have a project in mind. I want to look back at my old film negatives and interpret them not with chemicals, but with a pencil. I would like to make drawings based on the negatives. I will study the negatives on a light box, and then make digital photos of the ones which interest me. I will work the negative photos in Photoshop, first inverting them and then paring them down using filters so that they resemble a drawing. I will then use the digital study to aid me in my drawing. I would like to make 20-30 drawings from each period of my photography quest.

I am rereading Beachcombing at Miramar by Richard Bode. I came across this last night –

“I left my marriage exactly as I entered it three decades earlier. I had no mortgage, no credit-card balance, no bank loans. What I did have, somewhere in the middle of my mind, was a gyroscope, pointing me in a direction, telling me where I had to go. I set out, driving through snow-covered cornfields and prairie, crossing the Continental Divide, going from one coast to the other in quest of a place that felt like home.

And now I am here, walking the beach, watching the fist-sized shorebirds as they feed. They have no cache, no hoard, no store; like me, they live by their wits, taking what they want from the sea.

How is it, I ask myself, that I have so little money, yet I live so well?”

Library Blogging

Night Walk

I walked to the library this afternoon with my laptop to test the internet connection, after a delay of a few minutes my computer linked with the server and I am now writing this blog entry.

Yesterday Rachel and I did more shopping for both of our homes. I bought a kitchen table at Habitat's store, they will deliver it sometime next week. I believe I have everything I need except a sofa, so I will continue to check the 2nd hand shops for something.

I talked with the apt manager yesterday and she said Cyndi already moved out and I could move in whenever I would like. She also mentioned that they are working on replacing two bedroom windows, so I am going to wait until Saturday to move in. I have a feeling the windows will not be finished before I move in because when I walk by the apt on my way home from work I see no evidence of work being done.

I submitted my application for Leona's job a few days ago. Rachel helped me edit my resume and cover letter, both read pretty good. The job is currently open to internal applicants only and I have been thinking about who else would apply. My initial guess was anyone who was working part time, such as myself. This morning Leona mentioned that she doesn't think it fair that the job is not open to people outside the district because she has a friend who wants to apply. That led her to say that she knew of two people applying thus far. I questioned her about the two, she said I was one, the other being Caty from the APNC. I was surprised to hear this because Caty works full time at a place which I believed she enjoyed, and the pay would be similar. Caty is smart and competent, so my odds of getting the job have gotten slimmer, but I still like my chances. I will try my best and let things fall where they may. If I do not get the job I will still have my old position, and even though I will be broke most days, I will still be happy because I will have much time to do things that I love. I have been somewhat dreading having to work 40 hours a week - it is either no time and lots of money, or no money and lots of time - either one is fine by me.

Co-op Blogging

Rest Stop Outside Kankakee

I walked over to Lincoln Square this morning with my laptop to test the wifi connection. When I sat down in the main lobby all of the available connections were secure and needed a password. As I sat there wondering what to do, I recalled that Cyndi, the nice lady who just moved out of my soon-to-be apt, said that she would connect while at the Common Ground Food Co-op. So I packed up my stuff and walked a few hundred feet and found that there are attractive wood tables set up in the corridor leading to the store. I sat down at one of the tables, set up the laptop and tried to connect. I saw a connection for Guest and Guest Common Ground, I chose Guest and was successful at establishing a connection.

So as I sit here in the corridor, I just finished working on a recent picture I took while on the road to my parents on Christmas Eve, and am now writing this entry.

Yesterday was 57 degrees, all of the snow melted. I went for a run, I felt great, no asthma for a couple of weeks now, and getting sleep every night.

Last night Rachel's sister Amy and her husband Brian and son Andrew came over to celebrate the end of 2010. I made homemade sag paneer, Rachel made Samosas, rice pudding, and sweet dough balls. We drank Fat Tire India Pale Ale and played penny poker after the meal.

Andrew is currently a student at Univ of Chicago. Next year he is planning to study in Paris, France for a few months. He said he can't speak French, but he is smart and should pick it up quick. I like his style - he walks everywhere, refuses to ride in cars for environmental reasons, is a vegetarian, and always appears calm.

1 week

Melinda's Alley

I have not been doing too much the past couple of weeks. There was a lot of snow last week, about 6-7 inches, on one of the days I ran the South Farms loop but stopped after 10 miles because my legs got too tired from high stepping.

I have not picked up the guitar in almost 3 weeks. I had been playing consistently for a year, so I wanted to take a break. When I get settled into the apt I will start up again.

I like my new laptop computer, I won't have an internet connection at my apt so I plan to access the wifi signal at Lincoln Square mall a few times a week.

Leona's job was listed at the UPD a few days ago, the position will be open for internal applicants only, so that increases my chances of being chosen. I am currently working on my resume and the cover letter. Leona suggested I use her as a reference, it will look good that the person whom I will be training with for 5 months will be recommending me :)

In one week I will be starting a new life. My state of mind has surprisingly remained calm and focused on day to day living. I told the people at work about the divorce, it was not too uncomfortable. I feel bad for my mother, she is not taking it very well. I saw her at Christmas and she cried.

Getting Ready for the Move

Walking to Work

Yesterday Rachel and I went to Home Depot and bought a laptop. It will be my first laptop and I am glad I waited because it was only $400 and it is more powerful than our current desktop computer. It seems smart to hold off buying new technology because over time the product is improved and the cost comes down.

Rachel and I went to Target a few days ago to purchase miscellaneous items I will need for the apartment. We were having fun and it felt similar to when we went shopping 11 years ago for supplies for our first house.

The past 7-8 days my asthma has disappeared, which means I am sleeping through the night and when I run I feel as if I have come down from a mountain top. Urbana got more snow recently and yesterday I was running through it, feeling strong due to my fully functioning lungs. What a difference it makes, running is so much easier and enjoyable when I am not gasping for air with each breath.

Living on High

I ran the South Farms loop with Melinda on Thursday, it was great to see her and generous of her to share some time with me. The day was not too cold but there was still some snow on the ground - it was fun! Melinda ran strong and she set a pace that was faster than I normally run for the loop, but I was able to keep up (except when we did a couple of 75 yard striders, I was moving pretty slow). On our walk back to the house, munching on Jimmy John sandwiches, Melinda asked if I hated her - I guess she did not approve of a cool down in wintry, evening cold.... :)

The next morning I got a phone call at work from the manager of the apt which I greatly wanted. She said my credit check looked fine and later in the day, after the Christmas work party (bowling and pizza), I met with her and the current tenant and the apt was signed over to me. I will be moving in on January 8th. The apt has 2 bedrooms, a smallish living room, largish kitchen, and is in a house with 2 other occupants. I am on the first floor with nobody above, it's on High St, in my current neighborhood, only 5 blocks from where I live now. I am looking forward to forging ahead with a newly created life for myself.

The Kindness of Strangers

This past week I have gone on an apartment hunt. While the plan is for me to leave at the end of January, being already packed and mentally ready to go, if I find something sooner I will take it.

Yesterday I viewed an apartment on High Street, across the street from the Urbana City building. Upon entering I immediately liked it and told the woman who is subleasing that I would like to live there. Today I faxed over my rental application, if the owner approves I would move in on January 1st.

If the apt. on High Street does not work out I am viewing an artist's studio/garret tonight at 6:00pm. The house has its own website and is owned by someone who is obviously interested in the arts. I don't like that it is near Prospect in Champaign as it would make getting to work more difficult, but I won't mind walking/biking the extra mileage.

Being on the hunt has me pondering how a life can be changed from the kindness of others. If a person decides I am not right for the apt., I must continue the search until being accepted by some one's good will.

It is similar to a job search but not as difficult and not filled with as much rejection. Looking for a job is something which requires immense patience. Last night I was thinking about some of my job interviews, also a few other experiences which required the acceptance of another. In the times when I was accepted I knew beforehand that a favorable outcome was possible due to the person's facial expression and glowing eyes. I sensed a recognition of trust and approval, and in those cases the outcome was indeed good.

Walking into geometry class the day after an important exam the teacher stood at the doorway greeting the students as they walked in, and when I passed he had a glowing look in his eye, as if to say, "Amazing job!" I knew as I sat down at my desk that I had probably done well, and soon found that I had gotten a perfect grade.

In the 7th grade I tried out for the basketball team. I was small, skinny, short, surrounded buy tall black boys who were more athletic. The final thing we did in the tryout was suicide drills, which is something I loved to do. I noticed that most of the other boys hated them, but running full out brought me joy, and as I ran the final drill I noticed the coach looking at me with an expression of enthusiasm on his face. I then knew I had a chance to make the team even though I could not play basketball. The next morning one of my friends came running down the hall to my homeroom class, and out of breath told me - "You made it!"


When I was 18 I walked into Sear's warehouse, a dingy, dark place which did not inspire me, but I needed a job so I stood at a brown folding table set up in the middle of the warehouse and filled out an application with a few others. I figured I did not have a chance seeing how many people were hanging around filling in paperwork, but when I handed my application to the manager, who sat behind the table, he gave me a look which made me feel warm and positive. He had not even glanced at my application, but I felt I had a chance. Later in the day I was called and told I had the job.

Then there are the times when I know that the person before me has no liking for me whatsoever. Unfortunately these occurrences are more numerous than the above examples. As I am being interviewed I know I am wasting time, that there is no way I am getting the job. I would like to get up and walk out, but I don't, and the cursed interview goes on.

Apartment hunting is fortunately not as rigorous, and I am hoping to find a place which I will enjoy without having to endure too much rejection.

The Grateful Moon

The past couple of weeks have been strange indeed. Ever since Rachel and I decided to part ways our relationship changed from the monotony of a 15 year marriage to a blissful finale. Rachel said this period seems like a honeymoon, minus the sweetness. I thought for a minute or two and decided it was more like a grateful moon - thinking back on all the vivid memories and shared experiences makes me grateful for the 15 years we spent together. Tonight we went out for Thai food then stopped at the Rosebowl to see Caleb Cook, it was a fun evening.

This month I have been running mostly short and slow, but when I woke up this morning and saw the first snowfall of the season I had the urge to run the South Farms loop. Maybe it was the memories of running 3-4 hours in cold and snow last year that got me excited. I am not sure why I like running in difficult conditions. Two weeks ago there was a string of days in the 50's-60's, but I was content running 20 minutes and walking the rest of the way home. Today it was 25 with a stiff wind and icy roadways and I'm thinking "nice, today is a good day to run a long ways". So after work I hit the South Farms loop and ran 12 miles. The first hour my asthma was thorny, but when I got to the arboretum I felt the lungs go free and I smiled and took off. I had to put a face mask on when I reached the dirt road due to the bitter wind. When I finished the run I felt refreshed and happy - happy because this month Melinda will be visiting and we plan to go for a run together - knowing I can still cover the South Farms gives me confidence that I can keep up with her.

Preparation, Contemplation, Simplification

With my marriage soon coming to an end I have been preparing for a new life - different home, living alone, thinking of myself as not being intimately connected to a person.

Emotionally I have been doing better than expected and I thank my daily meditation practice for that. My mind has also been lucid and calm, maybe because I know that I will be staying in contact with Rachel. Rachel and I plan to see each other once I leave and I will be pet sitting when she takes her trip to Puerto Rico in March.

Severing a 15 year marriage and moving forward is not easy because of the vivid and long memories which sometimes surface in my mind. But thinking of the future there is the freedom of living alone, control of finances, and the sheer solitude which can bring creative desire.

I am spending 60-90 minutes a day packing things for moving or storage. I am going to attempt to simplify my life - I will bring a few books, 2 boxes of pictures, a few framed photographs, 3 guitars and an amp, some furniture. I was planning to not own a computer but Rachel said she will pay for half, so I may buy a laptop and use the free wifi around town when I need to use the internet. I will do without a land phone, no television/cable, and will try to get by without a cell phone. I have never owned a cell phone and wonder what it is like to not have any phone whatsoever. My family won't like the idea and maybe there are things which make owning one a necessity, but I can't think of any at the moment.

Crisis

A couple of days ago I found out that my life's direction would be significantly altered. I am still in a state of confusion and shock. Fortunately my spiritual quest is focused on the quality and strength of my mind - I am going to need a calm, clear, attentive mind to survive the next few months.

This blog is not a place to share the details of what I am going through, but I will say that everything I know and love will soon be gone. It is the ultimate test of my faith and spiritual practice. The reason I constantly think about loss and pain is because when it finally arrives I can be somewhat prepared to experience it with equanimity and detachment. I am only one living being in a world filled with a billion living beings. My struggles are small and invisible but I still have to confront and work through them.

I am unsure how much I will be writing about guitar. I still hope to practice everyday but there are many other things which I will soon be doing out of necessity. It may take a year or more before I feel settled and comfortable with life again, and I will strive to retain a meditative mind throughout the process.

The past 15 years of my life have been blessed with good fortune and happiness. It has now come to an end.

Sunburnt Whales

I can't recall a stranger November. I was getting into cold weather mode, enjoying long sleeved shirts and faded jeans, scarf wrapped around my neck, but the string of days this week have been sunny with temps in the 70's.

Rachel and I went to Kickapoo this afternoon and I ran the bike trail loop which I discovered on my 7 hour long run this summer. Rachel hiked and expected me to meet her in 1 hour and 45 minutes. I calculated that I could make that time since I estimated the total distance to be 10 miles. When I showed up 2 hours and 25 minutes later, Rachel none too happy, I guessed that the loop was 12 tough miles of twisting hills.

Last week I decided to purchase a blues instructional course made by Jamie Andreas. I have been practicing the exercises in her Guitar Principles book and I decided I was ready to move forward. During the month of October my progress had been faster than anticipated, so my music confidence is higher than normal. I believe I have a shot at becoming a decent blues guitarist, but I still have my doubts. I sometimes wonder if my small hands will hinder me, but lately I have begun to think otherwise, what they lack for in size they make up for in quickness, agility, and strength.

I was willing to pay $60 for the course, and when I scraped together enough money I logged into the GP site and found that the price had been lowered that day to $35, a 3 day Halloween special - some days my timing is peculiarly lucky.

I began reading and practicing the course a few days ago and am happy with the writing style, clear organization of the material, attention to micro details, and the videos which illustrate the proper techniques. There are 6 blues solos to work on in the course and I have begun working on solo #1. I already have the notes memorized and am practicing the timing, bends, and vibrato.

My current focus is on proper vibrato and bending techniques. I find the correct vibrato wrist motion to be a bit puzzling, but with a lot of practice I am confident I will become good at it. Bending does not seem as difficult, but creating the proper sounds are elusive.

I am guessing that it will take 1 year to finish the course. At that time I am hoping to possess an average ability to play blues solos.

First Steps

Miko Sushi

The past week I experienced the ups and downs of cutting a new path. I was able to meditate each day before going to work, one of the mornings for only 5 minutes. But even 5 minutes of sitting sets a routine which the mind will eventually become addicted to - I simply need to break an old set of addictions and forge new ones.

It seems simple enough, but some addictions are so strong that dismantling a home which has been lived in for a decade would be preferable to changing the habits and patterns of the mind. The startling thing about human nature, though, is its ability to shape reality - with enough effort and belief doors, hitherto unknown, begin to appear, keys eventually stumbled upon, and a threshold into a new world crossed.

I also meditated in the afternoons and evenings. Walking around town I attempt to remain mindful of my breath and this has slowed down my striding pace, which has led to seeing things which I normally would pass by.

Thus far my mind has been filled with too many useless thoughts and desires, so progress has been slow. My expectations need to be shortened - instead of a lengthy chain of calm moments, a single breath movement where the mind is at ease can be considered improvement.

Yesterday while meditating I experienced the first insight of my quest. In an attempt to strengthen my compassion for all living things I imagined taking the suffering from my sister (she is currently undergoing cancer treatment) and breathing it into my heart, where it would then dissolve. I of course do not believe that the actual suffering will be alleviated, but the exercise will hopefully accustom my mind to feeling the suffering of others. As I breathed in, imagining the suffering filling my lungs, my upper body shuddered with an odd sensation of warm illumination. The feeling soon faded and I imagined my dog's suffering (she is losing the function of her back legs), breathing it into my lungs. I again felt my body filling with light and warmth and it too soon faded.

My mind, remembering these startling sensations, is now more determined to meditate. I must break the addictions of my past life link by link, replacing them with more positive stimulants.