#journal posts
Waiting on Superman, Watching the Bees
from 
thepresumptuous
Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow.’
It is sweltering here today. 5m out of doors is all it takes to get a good sauna in and start sweating out all the toxins. Ugh!
It is a good day for a swim. Perfect in fact.
As long as the bees don't mind. Did I mention the bees are back? I was mowing a few weeks ago and noticed they showed back up at the hive. A quick inspection really pissed them off but revealed that they'd only been there a few days. There was brilliant white comb started mostly where it should be.
But the new queen is an aggressive one. It took a week or more before I could back into the yard. They mostly ignore me now. Which is good. The only other alternative is to move the entire hive further away from the house, or maybe to an entirely different property.
Today is a break day. The small client job that came in kept me busy last week and the week before but we shipped a final version last night and so we are waiting for client feedback. They may approve it, in which case, we'll start the production process on the 85 different deliverables.
It's a video game cover. That means game case art, playstation screen art, Xbox, online, PC, mobile and about 80 other formats I only recognize by cryptic file names.
It feels SO good having paying work again. It won't carry us through the rest of the year, but it will get us into the fall without so much stress.
I have a call Friday or Monday with the tv station here to talk about a production editor role. It's just making spots and commercials for the local news. I'm really interested in it just as something different from the last 25 years and the work is so so low stress. There won't be any 'how do we solve this problem' moments. The down side? Abysmal pay. Like, as a freelancer, I can make in three weeks what that job will pay in six months. :–/
Six months of showing up, 8-5, dealing with people and politics.
So...
Once more wondering how to just get paid to sit home and stare out the window. I guess that's what writers do.
But, I don' think I've got what it takes to be a successful writer.
In the words of George McFly, 'I don't know if I could take that kind of rejection.'
:–/
BUT, there is value in just having something to do. No one in advertising is hiring right now and every single freelancer I know is struggling. I have a call later today with a friend in Bolivia who left TV production in LA to lower his cost of living and raise his family somewhere outside the culture there and not only is work failing for him, he's got a brother who is dying of cancer and he is stressed abut how to help his nieces and nephews. It's a sad and common story.
As I am feeling much better, I can see how and why this year's overwhelming circumstances nearly killed me. Just a few days of work and a decent report from the doctor reminded me that, as all of my friends keep telling me, 'this too shall pass'. Now, to KEEP stable.
Speaking of the doctor: my Echocardiogram got rescheduled. Something about the technician being unavailable. I think the main goal is to understand why my one valve is slow to close. My dad says he has the same issue, so perhaps congenital? 25 years ago I remember a doc freaking me out with the same scenario: saw something unusual on the EKG and a month of tests to finally say, 'no big deal, you're fine'. I'm 65lbs lighter now and work out every day, so that's definitely in my favor.
Now that the missus is feeling better, I'm hoping we can see a movie this week. Superman opens this week and I can't wait. Early pundits are negative about it, but as real people start to see it, it sounds overwhelming positive. Yay, superman!
I think I'll watch 1978 Superman tonight. It has such a charm and makes me feel terrific. Then again, we'll see what kind of mood my other half is in. Sometimes it's a bit of a sell to get her into two of my favorite late 70's films: Superman and Star Trek the Motion Picture. X-D
In less-optimistic news, the ICE crackdown is hitting close to home for us. I just got news a close friend of mine suspects he is under surveillance by agents. He is a Mexican national whose mother brought him here illegally when he was 4. He is 41 now, divorced and raising 3 teenagers. He thought he was in compliance with getting his status legalized, but now he is very nervous. The road to citizenship is long, complex, and expensive.
Normally, it's just a pay and wait game. But now, he says it feels like walking in a minefield. Leave at the wrong time, or get fingered by a testy agent and someone like him will spend months trying to prove he can legally be here.
Oy!
Poor G, I pray he can avoid this mess and the trauma his children will face if he gets disappeared.
#journal #memoir #confession
Bipolar?
from thepresumptuous
If I could stay here, that would be great.
Am I bipolar? I've been struggling for months with negative energy and low self esteem. Even going as so far as starting a serotonin uptake inhibitor... but then after weeks of this, I wake up like a switch has been thrown and life is good again.
It's weird. And I never noticed this before. This change is drastic. Like, I feel like a different person.
Maybe it's time to see a therapist. I mean, I'm not complaining about this feeling of euphoria. It's GREAT. But, something tells me swings like this can't be good for you.
#confession #journal
Where Angels Transit
from thepresumptuous
In the Time Between Moonset and Sunrise there is glory, wonder and passion.
It’s 6 a.m. I know this because the neighbor’s truck roars to life like it always does. One day, I’ll ask him where he goes each morning with such discipline and predictability.
I’ve never been that person—reliable in the ways people tend to admire. My skills lie elsewhere. I think I was born into a world unsure what to do with people like me.
We are artists and writers, dancers and dreamers. Lovers who sit and think about clouds all day. We wake with the morning sun, and some days we see only darkness—while others, we float, effervescent, in that golden space between the clouds and heaven.
The place where angels transit.
This morning, I’m giddy. Dizzy with delight and imagination. My mind floods with possibilities. The neurotransmitters are transmitting.
Everything feels open and alive.
Is this a byproduct of stress relief? Or were my vivid dreams exciting and alive so they inspired this state of euphoria where lately there has been so much fear? I do not care, I will simply seize it and hold it here as long as one can grasp at the mist.
I will ask the muse to sit with me beneath the sycamore and trade her ideas and mine. To laugh and flirt with disaster at the edge of out of control. For what can come from denial of something real except sadness, and possibly madness?
I’ve retired to my favorite spot on the floor so I don’t wake the house. I wait for the black sky to start glowing with the birth of day. Strange therapy this; the hard cool of the bamboo that magnifies the hum of a house I this quiet moment. I can hear the million thoughts of those I love transmitting through the universe.
It’s the darkest hour—between moonset and sunrise. I think I’ll go sit in the yard and watch the light arrive. I will trade my mental choir for the serenade of the waking cardinals and jays, the buzzing of the hive and the rush of wind in the tree tops.
And I’ll pray. For you. For me.
That the glory of this day lingers long enough to warm our souls.
You feel like peace in a world that never stops screaming.
#journal #memoir #bipolar #creativewriting #dawnthoughts