Confront Life

“Do you have the courage to bring forth the treasures that are hidden within you?” asks writer Elizabeth Gilbert. "[W]e are all walking repositories of buried treasure....The universe buries strange jewels deep within us all, and then stands back to see if we can find them."

The hunt to uncover those jewels is living creatively. The courage to go on that quest separates an enchanted existence from a mundane one.

Philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900) believed confronting difficulty is essential to a fulfilling life. In 1873 he wrote:

"Any human being who does not wish to be part of the masses need only stop making things easy for himself. Let him follow his conscience, which calls out to him: 'Be yourself!'"

"There is no way to help any soul attain...happiness...so long as it remains shackled with the chains of opinion and fear....How hopeless and meaningless life can become without such a liberation. There is no drearier, sorrier creature in nature than the man who has evaded his own genius."

As Picasso advised “to know what you’re going to draw, you have to begin drawing.” Nietzsche counsels:

"No one can build you the bridge on which you, and only you, must cross the river of life. There may be countless trails and bridges and demigods who would gladly carry you across, but only at the price of pawning and forgoing yourself. There is one path in the world that none can walk but you. Where does it lead? Don’t ask, walk!"

I hear ya, Freddie.

Vermont

Robin and I just returned from a trip to rural Vermont. We visited casual acquaintances and transformed them into good friends. Plus we visited a terrific "sugarbush" (Morse Farm) where we tasted delicious maple syrup and hot sauce.

It was our first time travelling since recent medical cataclysms. We learned how difficult some activities are now. For example, in the past I performed ALL piloting of our cars and motorcycles -- and was well-accustomed to the aggravation and exhaustion of fighting traffic near NYC. For Robin, that was a new experience. She had a tough time with it: at one point (when a dashboard warning light popped on) Robin wanted to turn the car around and return home. I needed to calm her down and reassure that all's fine and safe. In the past she may have taken for granted the effort I'd put into our travel.

A benefit of the trip was stimulating conversation about where we'd like to live in the future. New England has always appealed to me and is now a leading contender. Only when you visit the area do you see its immense contrast to suburban New York. Less traffic, less rude people, less expense and more beautiful country. Our new friends live on nine acres -- NINE ACRES! -- for less than our house with 0.15 acres costs. Whew.

In Pursuit Of A Bagel

It's possible to find adventure anywhere if you try hard enough.

This morning I woke up at 4:30 a.m. (which is not unusual) and decided to walk a mile to a bagel store to buy their fine bread product. If you arrive when the store opens at 5 a.m. there's no line of customers -- that annoyance starts later on Sunday mornings. Despite being on one of Long Island's busiest commercial roads (Route 110), the store and streets are empty this early except for Spanish-speaking staff at the store. They always greet me enthusiastically but probably wonder "What's this gringo doing up so early? This is when only we have to be out of bed."

Did I mention that, at this hour, it's pitch-black? (Sunrise is 6:32 a.m.) Did I mention that it is pouring rain? (I brought an umbrella.) Heading out I anticipated (correctly) that my feet would get soaked up to the calves (multiple unseen puddles) and my ankles were at constant risk of getting sprained from ubiquitous potholes on the edge of the roadway. (There's no sidewalk.)

I make it to the store, succeed with the purchase, and head home. All good, right? Not exactly. Remember the dark streets? Heavy rain? Mr. Magoo eyesight?

I reach home -- or what I think is my home and... What the...? It's not my house. The number on the mailbox is mine but it definitely is not my house. Hmm... After walking up and down the street a few times I finally realize I turned down the wrong block. This is not Somerset Street. In the darkness I can't see anything except mailboxes so I didn't suspect my mistake until now. Okay, so I walk around, find the right block and am finally able to peel off soaked sneakers, socks and pants. All this for a bagel.

I didn't expect the expedition to be so challenging, but that's life in the slow lane.

"True Stories"

To conventional minds the weird seems strange. Inexplicable. But to outsiders and those open to considering more than adherence to convention, the weird is fertile soil. Full of interesting, even arresting possibility. 

I'm drawn toward unusual art, including films which are hard for many to grasp. Traditional movies lead viewers by the nose with formulaic plots and manipulative mood music. So if that's your experience and expectation for a film, you're ill-equipped to enjoy weird cinema. It breaks the rules of convention which can be discomforting. You have to expand to appreciate it, not the other way around. It wasn't created as pablum for toddlers.

"True Stories" (1986) was made by David Byrne of Talking Heads. It describes normal life in a Texas town with a surrealistic point-of-view. Everything, both content and visuals, is off-kilter, normal on the surface but with vague suggestions of mystery and deviance.

I like it. Your mileage may vary (YMMV). 

Returning To Photography

I created this casual portrait of Robin earlier this year with my vintage 1972 Kodak Instamatic 30 camera loaded with 110-cartridge film. We were in Ocean City, New Jersey, obviously alone due to the cold.

I carefully planned the picture's composition to move the viewer's eye around, first from the left side to the center and then to the lower right side where -- surprise! -- Robin's smile awaits. The success of this image reassures me that even with severe visual impairments I can still create photographs of artistic aspiration. 

The 'Ber Months

Happy 'Ber Months! (Septem-ber to Decem-ber)

Every year I get to celebrate my birthday (Nov. 3) and favorite holiday (Halloween) the same week. The arrival of September reminds us to start thinking about Halloween costumes. 

What'll yours be this year? Be wild and creative!

I'm considering... James Gandolfini (as Tony Soprano) with Robin as Carmela, Tom Wolfe (author & boulevardier), Jack Hughes (USA/Devils hockey star), Tim Curry (as Dr. Frank-N-Furter) and, of course, Dolly Parton. Although Dolly was a foot shorter than me, with her big hair she reached the same height. :)

Recovering My Mojo

Last May, at the beginning of Summer, I declared an intention to return to photography. I hadn't taken a picture in three years (since my eyesight went south). 

I admitted apprehension because my one attempt to take photos after vision loss was a disaster. My eyesight is really, really bad. But... as we bikers say, it's the journey, not the destination. Since childhood I've loved photography, especially with film. I want to re-claim that joy even if the results are poor. After all I'm doing it just for myself: I'm not a professional artist or trying to sell anything. I can live with mediocre images as long as creating them is fun. And it is.

Over the Summer I took my vintage 1972 Kodak Instamatic 30, loaded it with 110-cartridge film and ventured out to the world. I believe I crafted a few photos worth sharing. I'll post them in about two weeks after the film negatives are developed and scanned. (I use the aptly-named "Old School Photo Lab" in New Hampshire.)