my oasis

i have to apologize. i look back at the writing i’ve done over the past week or so, and i think, gosh, that sounds so negative. i don’t mean to sound like such a downer. i don’t feel like a downer. even when my words sound hopeless, i am generally pretty hopeful about things.

i have my share of frustrations

of disappointments

of grieving, of loss

of disconnectedness

i have my neuroses, my anxieties

and for whatever reason, i gravitate towards writing about those rather than writing about positive things that are more abstract and much harder to express in words. or there are fewer words to say about them. but they are there. i could tell you how great it felt last night to lay on the carpet and listen to the Keith Jarrett Quartet play “Oasis.” i could tell you about how happy i was yesterday when I heard from my friends Lisa or Wendy or Steve. i could tell you how happy i feel at dusk, especially in spring and summer. i could tell you how much i enjoy people watching, how much I love walking around New York, or in Chicago on Ravenswood Avenue. And I guess I just did.

bur i like to think that maybe even writing about the most difficult things can be a good thing because maybe someone out there will empathize and maybe they will feel less alone. maybe that is why i make art. i write about disconnectedness as a means of connecting with someone, maybe someone like you.

but i will try to sound not like negative person because i can assure i am not.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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