Whatever happened to passion?

In some ways, I was born way too soon. If I had been in my 20s when blogging came around, I would have been tearing up the world with my blog, posting twelve times a day, radical thoughts that would awaken people's minds, bring lots of blogging dollars my way and make me a sex god to women. Yes, I know, there were venues to do just that in the late 70s early 80s and I failed to take advantage of those, but don't harsh my high, man!

Anyway, this is just an oblique way of tackling the damping of the creative fire that used to course through my body, and one of the ways that I literally used to define myself. In my heyday, I was an unstoppable creative force - I wrote a novel, many short stories, poems, hundreds of songs, dozen of movies. When I had a creative buzz going on, when my mind was on fire from ideas, it was a better high than almost any of the drugs I took (oh yeah, I was doing those too). Why I never became famous from any of my endeavors is another subject, and let's face it, better folk than I never succeeded.

But somehow somewhere that flame kind of sputtered. Was it working a regular job (my favorite excuse?) Was it taking up Zen practice, which convinced me that all this was attachment? Was it finding that everything I was doing was something I had done before (sure seemed like it). Having a dog who wakes me up at dawn no matter what time I went to sleep? Was it just, well getting older? Whatever, I have found (as I mentioned in a previous post) that a lot of the things that I thought I valued about myself I just don't do much anymore.

Measure of our days

My dog Blue has developed a limp over the past week that has refused to heal. Part of the problem is of course that he refuses to let it heal. He being a Lab is gung-ho kind of guy and all attempts to curb his insanse chasing after balls, sticks, whatever are futile. I took him to the vet where of course his limp magically went away and the vet just said to put him on anti-inflammatories. But seeing him limp along has given me visions of him in the future, arthritis-ridden as he is sure to be, trying to ignore the pain and fulfill his destiny, which is bring that ball back to me, and dreaming of his younger days.

Having a pet puts the whole cycle of introduction, attachment, loss and berievement into fast forward. And it gets me to thinking about Blue, when he is approaching the end of his days, willjudge his life (OK, I know dogs don't do that, but stay with me for a second). Will he consider that he has had a good life, since he has been able to run and play freely, had all the food he wants (OK, maybe not ALL) , and had a good owner/caretaker/person who loves him more than anything? Or will he focus all the times I left him home alone while I went to work, all the streams and lakes I wouldn't let him swim in, all the rotten bread and other garbage I wouldn't let him eat?

And of course this naturally turns back to me and how I judge my life.

I don't how people do it

There are some people, such as my friend T_, who seem to be able to do it all. You know, he has a full time job at which he is pretty successful, he owns a house, he has numerous hobbies (mostly dealing with computer stuff, software, electronics and music), he is involved with some fringe art groups that make way-out installations, he goes out to musical events a lot AND he has an active sex life (not in a committed relationship, which might be even better). Plus he's skinny and at the age of forty looks like he's twenty-five. (Oh yeah, and he's even a stoner! So much for that myth.)

Whereas I find myself increasingly unable to organize even the smallest sections of my life - witness how I can't even find time to post to this blog. I have my hobbies - I play guitar, I hike, I sail, I cook, I go out dancing, I read, but damn if can find the time to do them. My guitar playing is way off, I haven't gone sailing in months, and I cook once or twice a week most weeks. I don't know if it's age or the increasing complexity of modern life, or low-level radiation exposure, but I don't seem to be able to get it together. OK, since today is the first day of the rest of my life, this is the start of Brian's organized phase! Just in time for my 48th birthday.

What lazy blogger!

OK, so it's been about, um... OK, too long since I've posted here. It's not because nothing has been going, there has been plenty going on, unfortunately it has all been in my somewhat messed up private life (What? You have a private life?? you cry) and I have tried not to make this blog a dumping ground for my whines and sniffles. Of course, since what preoccupies me most is my whines and sniffles that means no posting. But I will get back to it. Anyway, some news:

- Since November I have lost about 12 pounds and am now back down to my Indiana days fighting weight, about 168. How did I do it? Giving up beer was (sadly) a big part of it.

- I will hopefully get my VA grant (finally) funded soon, so I can actually start doing some research

- I am, as you would guess, gleeful at the implosion of the Bush administration, but of course it portends dangerous times ahead, as does
- the collapse of the sub-prime mortgage market (who is lending to these losers, anyway)?*
- the decision of China to diversify the RMB out of US treasury bonds

- I went to China in February, which constitutes part of why my personal life is a mess, but enough about me. (NOTE: I did bring home some RMB, so I'm protected!)

- Due to messes in personal life, I am starting to write music again. Funny how that works.

OK, so stay tuned, both of you people who bother to look at this.

*I know, I know, other losers. Historical note: my first job out of college was working as a journalist for a housing magazine, where I became acquainted with some of the exotic lending instruments of the time, which had such colorful names as ZIP (zero interest payment), VIETNAM (variable interest, eternal terms, negatively amortizing mortgage) and of course the famous "neutron" mortgage, which destroyed both the buyer and seller but left the property intact. That's an 80s joke for you youngsters. Anyway, it doesn't seem lenders have gotten any smarter.

So, how about your personal life?

All you faithful readers of this blog (and if you are reading this, you are one of a select few) probably wonder I never write about, like, my personal life. Well, for a couple of reasons. One is that one has to have a personal life to write about first. The second is that I have been more concerned with having a public personae concerned about public things than whining about whatever personal crap is occuring. But I have reached an impasse with my personal that is too juicy to keep to myself, although of course I am committing potential personal hara-kiri by writing about it here.

All you faithful readers of this blog (and if you are reading this, you are one of a select few) probably wonder I never write about, like, my personal life. Well, for a couple of reasons. One is that one has to have a personal life to write about first. The second is that I have been more concerned with having a public personae concerned about public things than whining about whatever personal crap is occuring. But I have reached an impasse with my personal that is too juicy to keep to myself, although of course I am committing potential personal hara-kiri by writing about it here.

My wont in my life, has been to cruise the International match sites looking for a potential foreign bride. I'm not going to go into the numerous reasons why here, but I can say that outside of one almost-engagement mostly it has been a series of failures for me (in that sense it bears an uncanny similarity to my dating life in the US). When I found I was coming back to the US, I started writing to women in China, since I was going to be on the west coast of the US, which is just around the corner, sort of. Anyway, I found myself in the rare position of having some very nice interesting women to write to. One, G____, lived in Shanghai and was 32, an office worker with some fun tastes.

G___ was interesting in several ways. She liked traveling, art, photography, she was educated and her English was good. She was also quite pretty. Of the ones that took an interest in me, she seemed like the most probable one for a good relationship. I even turned down a 25-year-old in favor of her, which my friend Gil said should get me kicked out of the man's club.

So I went to visit her in Shanghai over Thanksgiving. More to come