2002Jan16
Sunshine. Another beautiful day in Arcata. No answer at Renee’s this morning – we’re supposed to go to the beach. My fear of rejection makes me wonder if I’m getting blown off, but then again, I know she has a fear of expectation. I wonder if what I have to learn from her is simple confidence, that I have nothing to lose in life, that it’s all a gift. The comical element to this is that I’ve been meeting new women every day. From the massage therapist to the writer, people keep approaching me. I mush be putting out some kind of good vibe – inner happiness, perhaps. I should not be concerned about Renee, but I am. She is so much like me and still she has that air of mystery I love. I want her to be a part of my life. I’ve learned my lesson about trying to extract the potential in a relationship. I don’t want anything contrived, so I can only wait and watch what happens. Besides, I’m assuming we have a relationship that is as of yet undefined. Maybe her whole purpose in my life has been just to send my thoughts this direction. Everything happens for a reason. I remain firmly convinced of that. And no matter what, she has been a source of illumination, a ray of sunshine. What marvels this world offers to those who will look! Today I welcome my life once again. This is undoubtedly my favorite life, and it’s just beginning.

I may be on the precipice of a great change. Renee stood me up, not that she owed me anything, not that I had anything to lose. So, while I’m not upset or angry, I realize how dependant I am on other people. She was all I had planned today. The phone rings now and I jump. Is it her? I did way too much of that with Leticia. My life cannot continue to be affected by ‘what might have been’ or ‘what could be’. ‘What is’ is simple. There is a wonderful woman who is not here tight now. There are lots of wonderful women who are not here. What was in my day was the ocean that I cannot walk to, contingent on Renee. I have been sleeping on the floor in a trailer, contingent on Virginia. Money has been contingent on those who possess it. Happiness is the only thing that I own and I’m beginning to think that it may not be enough. School itself is only a temporary provision, though sizeable enough to give me much needed flexibility. I wonder if my love for other people has only been a manifestation of the preditorial nature of a warrior. What sovereignty I possess is not true independence. What change do I need in my place in life that I may be something for the world and not just for one other person? My work must be my provision, yet all I am doing is writing to myself. This must end in lieu of something purposeful. But what? To contribute to the beauty in the world. But how? Certainly not just as a beautiful person, but something more material.

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Art with a meaning, not merely decoration, is what I want to create. Yes, I have to create. Somebody has to answer all of the angst and frustration, the depression that breeds apathy here. I have to show my answer, so as not to feed the ugliness…. Rather, to dispel it. Writing only works for those who read. I need a visual expression. I would love to demonstrate faith in the improbable, the very essence of faith.