Life’s what you make it, and other clichés

If there’s something this blog will be unlikely to be, it’s any kind of in-depth personal reflection put up for the world to see. (Hm, that rhymes. Not intentional.)

To be honest, as many friends of mine know, for many years I had severe doubts about putting up a blog in any form, occasional myspace rambles aside, due to my own particular feelings about keeping a diary — which I’ve always been terrible about carrying through. I find myself running out of words, which may sound strange, but to be honest most of one’s day to day existence, all basic things being stable (food, shelter, etc.), tends to be just that…stable. So that killed off the idea of a regular diary many times, in that after a couple of weeks everything would just grind to a halt. I’d be bored, feel like I was gaining little from the experience…looking back on the couple of fragments I’ve kept I find a couple of things of interest, but otherwise I’m content to let them lie.

Meantime, in terms of personal issues or whatever you’d like to call it, the two outlets for thinking about them in detail are as they ever were — reflection and meditation on the one hand, confiding in close friends on the other. I once told friend Stripey that it was understandable but utterly unfortunate that the nature of dramatic and artistic representations of ‘life’ in the modern day — radio, TV, film, the stage — means that a key element in my life (and surely in everyone’s?) that those long moments where you simply sit, stretch out and…think are absent. Of course, they can’t really be represented well, that’s the whole point — maybe a Warhol knockoff film aside, setting up a camera in front of me for a couple of hours when I’m flopped out on my couch and simply letting my mind wander makes for bad cinema.

The larger point is simply that those moments are key for my stability and mental strength — the part of me that folks see that seems utterly (hyper)active and social is not me all the time, and I think more than once I’ve either not been clear about that or else met people who are on that wavelength and can’t understand why I wouldn’t always want to be! But such is life, we live in our own skins and selves, and our minds take the paths that seem to us to make the best sense, if we’re comfortable enough with ourselves, confident enough. I certainly hope I’ve reached a certain balance in my life on that front, but I’ll hardly pretend perfection — but as I said before, most of my thoughts on that will be private, internal, never written down.

What is shared on those fronts is most often done with close friends and family instead — face to face, private boards and lists, e-mail, IMs, the phone, other means. These are the familiar ways to talk certain things out as I am comfortable with them, both as old as humanity and within my living memory. For that reason, the blog will not function as venting central — I don’t think it needs to be, and frankly I would rather not impose on random members of the public who swing on by. Whatever the reasons for your being here (and thank you indeed!), you don’t need those blurred, crushed moments in my head expressed here via bad metaphors or whatever else would be floating through my thoughts at such times.

And that said, most of the time I’m just not like that any way. People have said I’m the ‘golden boy,’ ‘happy-go-lucky,’ always on the up and up, running on a constant live wire. All true, really, in the grand scheme of things, and I hope to present that face to you all for the most part — my posts here may be of a more extensive and toned-down sort than elsewhere, what spark I have more of a calm sheen. I hope that will be more than satisfactory.

With that, I’m off to LA today to hike around Malibu with some friends, having spent last night at a fine dinner with friends where I contributed a nice little cucumber salad and a pretty good homemade bread. Those are the moments that matter most!

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