ruralborealis

Remember in Groundhog Day when Bill Murry tries to recapture the magic moment of the snowball fight and it’s just forced and weird and creepy with expectation? That’s kind of how it was when the rain started and my guy at the time grabbed my hand and pulled me out into the warm summer rain to kiss, and it had all the ingredients of a tender memorable moment, except, I guess, for me, the feelings that need to underly it. And as I think about it now I think that I was about 10% creeped out the whole time I was with this man, because he had this book-learning sense of what romance was supposed to be – it was inauthentic, and it was this inauthenticity that made me not want to be with him.

But then, there was that kiss in the SNOW, years ago, with a man a really loved. The melting snowflakes on our faces and lashes, and the hush of the empty street and the feeling that God himself was decorating our love. Now, THAT was romantic.

Now that I’m in Santa Monica – I see people all the time running along, working really hard getting really sweaty and tired. And I realized this morning as I saw some drenched old guy, that I’ve never found a way to really get hooked on that sweaty worked-out worn-out feeling. I see them and I see their lives lasting longer, their get-up-and-go lasting longer, their ability to relax come easily. And I think, I want that for myself. I want to get hooked on the feeling.

It takes such courage I think to make a decision like that. Buying art is next best thing to creating art, in terms of aesthetic self-expression – in can be very exposing. Not to mention expensive. But I think that for me – the money is just an excuse for not doing it – the real thing is – how to decide?