Wednesday, July 25, 2012


I have been wanting to write for a while, but everything else seems to take up my time and brain space.  Work has put everything on the back burner, things have been so crazy that I've been spending my nights recuperating and nothing else.  Haven't written anything since "My Hugo" and not sure exactly when I will be able to do anything more.  When I set aside time to write, and I have my netbook or my notebook & pen before me, my mind draws a blank.  I finished reading the third volume of Anais Nin's unedited diary a while ago and have started on the fourth (and as of now, last) one which goes up until the year 1939.  Once I'm done with that, I will be focusing more on reading her books "House of Incest" and "Winter of Artifice" and also Henry Miller's "Tropic of Cancer," "Tropic of Capricorn" and "Black Spring."

Emotionally I am wandering.  Sometimes I find myself feeling like Myrtle Wilson trying to escape from her husband's garage just before she is killed.  I feel like I am spinning my wheels, that there has to be more to life than this constant financial struggle.  Of course there are other things too, but I won't get into them here.  The fact that I am comparing myself to Myrtle Wilson (a character from "The Great Gatsby") should say enough.  I want to be free.  Completely free.  I am a caged animal that had a taste of freedom years ago, and can think of nothing else but escaping again.  But even then, I would be afraid to be alone...I would want to take someone with me or meet someone at the end of my road, camp out on their couch.  What is up with that?  Why am I afraid to be alone?

Where would I go?  Probably New Orleans.  I would fall in love at a cafe on the French Quarter and attend mass at St. Louis Cathedral.  That's my dream right now, but unless I win the lottery somehow or win the fellowship, that may never happen.  Or it might happen, but it would take suffering "the final straw" to unhinge my inhibitions.  I love living on the coast and I love my friends and family...but at some point I need to get some real living in.  I am not ready to settle down and grow old yet.  I want to do something crazy and wildly romantic.

Would you go with me to New Orleans if I asked?