Sun meets water meets skin
Central Park. Cold, but sunny. My confidence in this sweater was a little too high and the cold part is beating out the sunny part.
I find water, so many good bodies of water in Central Park. I need a spot that's somewhat west facing. A good rock would do. Beach myself like a sea lion. Find a place where sun meets water meets skin.
Ah - that's the stuff. Suddenly the whole world is 10 degrees warmer. It hits, permeates and then settles all through me. I'm drunk on Vitamin D. This is a normal feeling for someone living in Seattle. The gray, the drizzle, the cold (but not midwest cold), the whole thing just starts to wear you down to be honest.
But this…God this feels so good.
I love this rock because it's sunny. I love this rock because it's close to the Met. Which I have been wandering through for hours and hours and hours. Ticket bought at full price despite the eager attendant wanting me to give me any form of discount.
"New York resident?"
"No I'm just visiting from Seattle"
"Student?"
"No, sorry" (maybe someday…)
"Military?"
"I'll pay the $30 dollars"
And in a city where everything is so gosh darned expensive, this ends up being an amazing deal. Wave away the offer of the museum map and get really lost. Actually lost. There are hundreds of rooms in this building and it's somewhere around a 40 foot Japanese scroll that I realize that it's all too much. I've been trying to take it in with the requisite intensity and attention, but it could take years to take it in. I sit and I ponder. I tilt my head to try to find the corners of the brushstrokes. I get really close to the paintings and I try to also look at them really far away. I people watch people painting watching. I look at them doing all the same little funny museum quirks and I try to read their faces. A thousand unspoken conversations with a thousand dead masters - the best we have to offer. Finally all I can do is stumble out into the park for a break before the evening exhibition. And I find my rock.
I love this rock because it's far from Seattle. How often life just accelerates faster and faster until it is just some mighty mess. Despite being laid off in October, I have been busier than ever before. The days are full of me trying to finish a piece of software that I have a strong personal attachment to. It's been a learning process of just how much goes into getting something off the ground. The effort has felt immense and has been incredibly draining. There is no partially finished here, there just is or isn't. It's hard to feel that the lack of progress or at least visible progress to others somehow negatively reflects on myself. I wake up every day with looming thoughts. Anything beyond Gaël or Shelby, such as running, reading or anything else leaves me with a lingering sense of guilt that I should be using that time to keep pushing harder.
The evening exhibition makes me feel better. I learn that Degas spent 10 years just going to the Louvre and copying the masters before he felt comfortable to start his own work. Ten years! Painting someone else's masterpieces over and over to learn how to use his brush.
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Ok, that's enough thoughts from the rock. Some quick personal updates. I'm starting a new gig on February 12th, looking forward to biking to work again and free food. Not looking forward to the demands of this one.
I'm currently writing this quasi-surrounded by boxes. Moving in 3 days to get a little more space. The baby comes in May and we tried to find a place that could accommodate. I'll miss this apartment, it's one of the better ones I've ever lived in.
Gaël is juggling a million activities. The big three are Karate (twice a week), Basketball (twice a week) and reading (all the time - we're currently reading Project Hail Mary together, science!). It's my second year coaching his basketball team and I love it. I've learned that the boys highly feed off my own energy, so I try to bring maximum effort to every practice and game. Lots of pushups and running. Gaël often brings me plays or hypothetical speeches he wants me to give to the team, we both agree that young testosterone bent towards competitiveness can be carefully leveraged as a carrot, as long as you emphasize a philosophical attachment (or rather detachment) toward winning.
Shelby is all good things. The seeds from friendships here are starting to sprout roots. She is 27 weeks pregnant and the baby inside her is the size of a rutabaga. We're navigating what her private practice will look like with the arrival of the little one. She's worked so hard setting herself up, I'm very proud of her. She is my sun.
Ok that's news here, do me a favor and send some back. Makes it feel less like a oneway foghorn. Regardless, much love,
Cowabunga dude,
DJ
Written listening to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmxqwwLEHyE