"Speaking of Art," Impending Debut

I recently mentioned a video project that is reaching culmination. The video project itself is a done deal, but the first time I cut it to a VCD and DVD for review, it didn't seem to burn right, and the resultant videos were jagged and choppy, respectively.

I am re-exporting the work to another format and re-burning the DVD as I blog this. Hopefully I'll have chased out the last bug on this project, and begin to obsess on the next. Not to mention, I'll be able to hand it over for run for cable distribution, and show it off a bit!

Hiker dies on wilderness-survival adventure

Survival hike or death march?

New Jersey man Dave Buschow died of thirst in a Utah desert while on a survival hike run by Boulder Outdoor Survival School, or "BOSS." With emergency water supplies available, and a natural water source just yards from where he succumbed to thirst, it's a very sad tale all 'round.

The dead man's family blames the company, the company blames the man's preparation techniques. Total bummer.

New French prez on the way

Recent debates between French Presidential candidates remind me that the torch is about to be passed over there. My money is on Sarkozy, the son of a Hungarian immigrant. I predict his victory, and he's my pick to, for his moderate-to-right leanings, and great head of hair.

He also stands out from his opponent by being reputed as a U.S.-friendly choice, certainly the more-friendly choice to the U.S. I don't know if that's a good or bad thing, but an uptick in U.S.-French relations wouldn't hurt my feelings.

More life litter

I have eased back on beer and binge eating for a few days, and the bathroom scale has rewarded me in kind. Moderate efforts, moderate results.

This morning I find myself continuing the blahs that overshadowed yesterday. I am deep into my second cup of coffee, trying to jump-start the flow of energy. So far, nothing. Maybe some music will help...

Lifestyle detritus

If you dug out the pants-pocket of my life, this post would be among the lint:

• I topped 210 pounds today. Not cool.
• Yesterday was fast-paced and rewarding - I dumped the boy off with his Grandmomma, allowing me a moment to think and several hours to work. I got keyed up on coffee and got some shit worth doing, done.
• Today, the polar opposite. Not all bad, but all thoughts and actions entrenched in ever-solidifying cement. Had the boy all day, and I've had constipation of the mind. Didn't get much done, outside of some reg-a-lar housework. Fed up and burnt out with everybody in the house, those non-communicative, zombie-eyed, shout-my-life's-blood-at-them-and- get-nothing-but-snake-eyes-in-return band of cardboard cutouts.

Shit, gotta run.

Nosing around in the dark

I am beginning to suspect that my problem is not psychological, or even emotional, but spiritual. Sounds odd to say, as I am not a broom-smoking, flower-licking hippie type. I am probably one of the least-spiritual people I know - some might say that's the problem, but I'm not sure.

I do know that my spiritual adviser, Paula Phipps, has had some very reasonable advice, lending perspective to otherwise befuddling and maddening circumstances. Plus, I've been trying to read a book on manifestation, and it's making more and more sense as well.

Finally, as lousy as my own instincts have been for years, I have made a few helpful realizations on my own lately, which have also helped to smooth my ride.

Life is certainly not easy, but it's been a little easier. And that ain't nothin'...

I need a new kink

Man, I am so bored with life. What a pathetic statement that is - bored people are boring people - but it's true, so why hide from it?

I feel numb and disinterested. Nothing drives my mania lately, leaving me to wander and drift. I need something to invade my mind, fully engulf it with unreasonable desire, push me to spend ridiculous amounts of time involved in its demanding pursuit every day. A pitiless lover, sadistic, needy and cruel, wanting nothing from her subjugate so much as simply: more.

The only thing I do everyday now is drink beer and chase my ass in this circular, existential stupidity. Ridiculous, indeed!

I am not depressed, like I was not so long ago. For that, I'm extremely grateful. Not so long ago, I was almost completely disabled, paralyzed by formless despair. Now, I simply recognize that something is missing. It was brought into sharper focus yesterday when I spent an absolutely sublime afternoon spending time with musicians and other interesting people. Watching Levi Huffman and his friends drill away on their instruments, weaving long, winding tunes, it nailed to the inside of my skull proof of where ongoing pursuit of a goal, relentlessly scratching an itch inside your head, can take you. It's been a long time since a passion took up residence in my dome, but I remember what it was like. I miss it. I yearn for the condition where a dominating force provides energy and desire that seem both internal and external at the same time. A special form of madness, putting the pedal down somewhere in my psyche.

Bored. Disinterested. Numb. No pain, no brain. I want to cut through the callous, peel away the shell. Feel. Want. Burn. Get some gas in the tank, spike it with some nitrous oxide.

So... what? I have my health, most of my marbles, all my fingers and toes. I am very fortunate in the array of choice I have before me, even just the ones my tunnel vision allows me to see: website design (yeah, I don't think so), digital video, guitar... The list goes on and is generous. Hell, I'd settle for the abject pursuit of greed, if I could fall into it and get some traction. At least making some money would ease the pinch in our financial state.

I think I'll put an invisible "Vacancy" sign on my forehead, try to take in a new resident up in the ol' noggin.