Once I
stepped onto the path of service my desire to ‘make it’ in the art world dissipate.
My prime reason for creating art in the first place is so girls would take
their clothes off, the picture was mostly ancillary, if we remembered to do art
at all. Our lives’ intentions are constantly shifting, , and without the
stability of pairing off into families we freaks and monks grow ever away from
the original hopes.
On the
surface I am so like my fellows, but at root my thought process feels like a
chasm in my efforts to turn around. So different is interacting with
interesting women with no intention of physical involvement with them from maneuvering
for something more. I confess it torments me with confusion and uncertainty as
I haven’t felt since I was a young man. I wonder if I owe a reckoning for the
woman I confused so myself for decades past. Rationally I know this isn’t true
of course, it is only the man in me that needs an explanation for everything.
Every woman
I meet who seems to signal I passed the yes/no with her, takes on a dual nature
in my cognitive understanding. Having nothing material to offer her, I offer
nothing but my presence and attention. For instance I am quite taken by a an
attractive waiter at my favored coffee shop where I write and study frequently.
She’s Heather Leather’ of my desire, but also ‘Trixie’ of I don’t stand a
chance. Desperately assign this duality to her because I am stricken with
confusion wrought by desire and uncertainty.
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