The Right Thing About 3 a.m.

Blogging has been good for me and I claim no journalistic ideals for the future (aka. I have no book deal, I promise). I never did the serious journal thing before and in no way had a diary outside of a sketchbook. The closest thing I ever had to a journal was when a junior high school friend and I bought “little black books” at a stationary store to keep the names of girls and phone numbers and “stars/rankings/notes”. You know that little black book I’m talking about. The Fonz had one. Only, our meager thumbs up rankings never really amounted to much and the pages stayed all too blank. Although, I do recall one or two memorable names (not to be repeated here as Facebook has so wonderfully put us back in touch after all these years and that just wouldn’t be right).

Yes, blogging for me is pleasurable, albeit a bit of a process. EHTT puts me in a daily, if not hourly, state of inner search for something interesting and creative. The enjoyable part goes away, though, when I find myself in that sleepless hour of self evaluation at a sky-divingesque, X-Games sort of level. These are the wee moments when I’m convinced blogging is less than productive to my welfare. Being emotionally authentic might also be damaging to my sleep patterns at times.

The space between my head and my heart is not for casual play. It is where I seek what is right and good. It is where therapy happens. But it is also where artistic expression can find a voice in the night. It is where conception of an image for a painting or a line of a poem is worked out. It is where the details of a household construction project find solutions. It is where I remember the name of that song in my head and how it would segue so beautifully with that Arcade Fire song both musically and thematically (some d.j. habits die hard). And it is where I write, at times sans keyboard.

Sometime last year, I scoffed at the accusation that I held an innate inability to be alone. It was referenced in the context of a now dead marriage and, at the time, a dating life. It was intended to be a derogatory cut at my being and stated purely to hurt me. It was meant to make me rethink a new, wonderful, and hopefully, lifelong relationship. So, I ignored the comment. I have and still claim a life not of solitude. Instead, I choose people.

As for being alone, I crave the creative juice flowing moments that one can experience only in pursuit of art. And that kind of quality time is precious. Unfortunately, it is also just as hard to schedule. But when the opportunity presents itself, I am all over it.

Now, I readily admit, I tend to concentrate hardest on that which is directly in front of me and lack the enviable ability to multi-task on other things when creating/writing/constructing/etc. For example, I don’t cook dinner and watch Monday Night Football with much speed either, especially during the weeks when the kids are in the house. So, when given time to myself, I had best be organized because I will dive into a project and not look up, maybe for days. And when that happens projects might just linger in unfinished land (and I Hate unfinished land).

For me, the process of sorting through the shreds of information between head and heart is vital, if not mandatory, for the self. Though, it is rarely swift. I am not much of a loner and I have built my life around the people I love and care about deeply. Should they have me, they are a part of my life forever. So, when I withdraw in search of creative isolation, I unintentionally alienate and leave those I love to question whether my allegiance to them is at risk. And, I can’t have that. For that, I apologize.

So, what do I do?

The Fonz: Cool is knowing the difference between right and wrong and doing what is right with guts.

Well, I sort through it all and do the right thing. I paint in between laundry loads while waiting for the plumber to show. I cook, facilitate homework and baths, and play with PhotoShop all at the same time, doing none of them well, I fear. I make my lover mix-tapes (CDs) while doing some on-line bill paying. And, I blog in the middle of the night to connect some random dots between head and heart.