A Letter To Myself

Good morning Caleb, 

It’s 15 October 2018.

I don’t know if it’s the unexpected weather shift after Hurricane Michael reared its ugly head or whether it’s just the nature of the beast. My brain is buckled on a rollercoaster going through the ups and downs and loops and spin-abouts in proper fashion. I’ve gone through significant mental changes so far this year with an increased introspection as of late. Like I said, I’m not sure what exactly is sparking these thought bombs but here they are, exploding my grey-matter in true Pollock style. So often I catch myself going through old memories and relishing the feelings locked away with certain smells, pictures, words, weather and whatever it is that knocks me out. The memories seem distant like I’m watching them but no longer able to place myself there. I remember being and doing but time has taken it’s dues making it all feel different. How often have I sat and thought I had the answers and knew what cards were in my hands? To be honest, I’ve thought this too many times; thinking I feel or am a certain thing until months or years pass and I find out I was wrong. I wasn’t where I thought I was, I wasn’t being who I thought I was, I wasn’t acting the way I thought I was. Hindsight is a real bitch that hangs out with regret. They are no friends of mine, and yet I don’t prevent myself from drifting off on another mental tangent after smelling campfire and the sudden realization of the exact last time I was camping and how those emotions back-handed my focus for weeks. There is a pattern in my life where I hold on to things probably too long and maybe that’s because I don’t want to forget or give up or let go or walk away. Maybe I want to fix my wrongs and redeem myself. Irony loudly cackles at my dreams because it knows part of that success is doing the things I don’t want to do. And despite it all, I feel good. Honestly. I feel better every day but, (and isn’t there always a but?) I question whether I’m actually better or if I’m just imagining. Will I look back and see that I was mistaken, once again? These are merely rhetorical questions with little plaques hanging on the walls. I’ve been wrong so many times and it is no rhetoric that I will be mistaken many times in the future. For now I will let these emotional memories take me on rides and trips and strolls through Memory Lane. For now, they are my sweet treats. I talk a lot of the past but I’m equally as excited for the future and I hope the wildest dreams are grasped by hands ready to keep them. 

Rage's Impatience

Impatience has to be one of the cruelest traits a person can own. It’s there to point fingers to the wrong direction whenever it rears its evil head. And what’s with the random locations it decides to nest? One person can be contempt waiting at a restaurant for their food without a second thought, but get them behind the wheel and they turn into the demon incarnate willing to sling curses that’d get their family in the depths of fiery paradise. It can hide out unperturbed for an indefinite amount of time until that one trigger unlocks it’s door handing over the reigns. Impatience allows anxiety, accusations, laziness, and least of all anger to step into our spotlight. 

If I can be honest, it’s the anger that teams with my impatience most frequently. I stare at a mirage nearly centimeters in front of my face. No tricks lay in front of these eyes of mine! There’s no chance of that! I run and dodge and leap and fall and get up and keep going but that Damned view never seems to gets closer. Or does it? You see, I turn around and see how far I’ve moved but when I look at my destination it’s still flittering before my eyes from what, I swear on all your gods, is the same distance. It causes my brain to scramble and the lack of assurance- birthed from impatience- quickly grows to anger. I can feel it boiling inside me like I’ve been in a pot on the stove and only just realized what was going on. Just like boiling heat it’s all energy but red hot energy coursing through my veins determined to find an exit. One that will assuredly explode in undesirable ways. 

In these moments it’s great to calmly sit down and count to bajillion with steady “Inhale exhale” practices sitting like a pretzel in an isolated room. It’s easy to do, that. Just take all that lava rage cooking your brain and just…sit and breathe until it goes away. But…does it go away? In the words of a legendary battler of this: “I’m always angry”, said Bruce Banner when confronted on how he controlled the green beast inside. Maybe that only makes sense to those that have punched holes through doors, thrown bottles against walls, screamed their throats bloody, destroyed a punching bag, or even ran their legs to rubber. Things are easier to manage when present all the time. Less likely to show its hideous face being trapped in experienced holding cells. 

Not all this reaction sprouts from impatience; I know that. But that sneaky, crooked, conniving, intolerant, disrespectful, corrupt, sleazy, patronizing son of a bastard sure doesn’t help. That’s the silver lining to all of this-the important part to pick out- call it maturity, diligence, tenacity, what-have-you, but controlling the explosions gets easier. Especially when you know where to stifle the flame. 

Brazilian Coffee and Clarity

A clear portrayal of one's self isn't exactly something we get often and sometimes never at all. So how do we even know how we're perceived? I spent a lot of my time internally making assumptions of how people viewed me. Which is already backwards. I put all focus on what people thought of me instead of what I thought of myself. Therefore, if I cared more of what people thought of me then I probably didn't care for myself enough. I don't know if this hidden thought-coffin was behind a veil and just out of sight and realization for others, but that's certainly how it was for me. 

“You either die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain”

— that famous quote we all know from batman that's probably from something else

It's not easy to see oneself in a different way. We see what we expect to see so how could anyone notice they were the thing bringing down their own life? Nobody thinks they're the villain of their own story so who would expect to see the signs of that? However, it is such a remarkable and important thing to find because the realization provides a way to correct the issue at it's core.

So I never realized I was making myself unhappy and spreading my subconscious funk everywhere I stayed for too long. That transferred into my artwork and the decisions I made with designs and business and friendships/relationships and literally everything. Now that I know, I'm working on being happy and grateful in the moment instead of thinking I have to be unhappy and work super hard until I feel I deserve to be happy. I'm finding things to be happy and grateful for as much as possible and with any and all things current in my life.  That way I can share and spread a similar feeling to others.  I regret a lot of my past so the process of letting go is gradual but proving to be worth it and freeing. I know I may sound like a lunatic but hey, fuck it! I'm a happier person and I hope you are/can be too. 

As always, I've got some art ideas and projects I'm working on now that might reflect some of this thinking. I will be playing around with more colors in my paintings much like you've seen from the pet portraits. I've always loved bright and bold colors anyway! 

Coffee & Dreams

I usually title my blog posts with a drink and a food I'm enjoying as I write this, but today I'm drinking Papua New Guinea roasted to full city plus without food!

I woke up this morning munching on dreams of the future. I spend a decent amount of time "daydreaming" as most people call it but I like to think of it more as, "planning my future." Have you ever seen someone's life and instantly thought, "Oh that would be cool to happen to me."... but really, if you broke it down, it's not really what you'd want? Let's say that's what I do most, I try and visually see if an idea is worth working towards. Instead of a Walter Mitty Style, where he daydreamed adventurous life but only turned around to work in the desk. I like to envision a target and start creating my tools to hit that target. (This is how I legitimize my habit lol)

I've got this day job where I serve beer to customers in a grocery store. Which sounds fun, and it can be, but corporate ruins all the fun. To not get into that rant and cut this story shorter, I don't really like it. I have to walk away from my own business and planning to do someone else's business and every day as I drive to work I have this internal conversation:

Oh man. This could be the day.

I could quit and turn around.

Devote all of my free time into my own business. Hustle and hustle and make it grow!

That would be a push and a leap into the darkness. I'd have to solely earn enough for bills.

Maybe that's the push I need! 

I bet I could do it! 

However, I never quit and I never turn around and go back. I envision this life where I'm hitting the grindstone every day every hour and I'm constantly working to build my business and become self sufficient and I can feel the energy and excitement and drive! It is completely intoxicating! The whole drive to work I'm drowning in this yearning for that daydream but yesterday I had a second thought. Not one I normally do. 

Why would I have to quit in order to do ALL of that now? 

I realized I'm comfortable with the rate of my growth or success. I was getting a steady paycheck that helped so I wasn't constantly working on myself. I got comfortable and stale. I regressed. THERE'S NOTHING STOPPING ME FROM HITTING THAT GRINDSTONE RIGHT THIS SECOND! I LITERALLY CAN WORK. THAT HARD. RIGHT. NOW! I don't need to quit or be fired from this stupid day job in order do exactly what I was daydreaming. And I've had these moments before, which should be expected, life is a constant struggle. So I had to remind myself that my fear of failing was creating an altered path to get to my destination. I saw a way to get to where I wanted but the steps were impractical. So I had to think of a different route. 

If you're dreaming for a future, break down that path as many ways as you possibly can as many times as you possibly need to. Most of the time, you'll have to tweak your path to get to your destination. "If it aint broke, don't fix it" ...NO! Constantly try and find a better more efficient way to accomplish your life. Don't get comfortable.  

Yunan Pour-Over & Hopefully Some Toast

           I got a chance to make coffee at home this morning and so I decided to do some writing along with that gift. I wandered downstairs this morning with a yawn on my lips and pop in my bones. Made it to the kitchen just in time for the Yawn-Stretch Combo to happen. Spotted a bag of Yunan coffee, which happens to be from China, and did a little jig to the grinder. Hips swaying to an imaginative song in my head. Eventually that imaginary song turned into Everything by Atmosphere. Song's jammin. Water's heating. Coffee's grinding. Head's bobbing. Feet tapping. Grinding finished. Water's done. Steam's rising. Coffee's dripping. Aromas' dancing. And the job is done. First sip is like a gift from the universe; warmth, love, energy, flavor, & happiness shared through a liquid. We don't deserve such things as beautiful as specialty coffee. Centuries of perfected agriculture on perfected locations to a single surface area of a coffee farm, added to the years of perfected roasting machines and software and roasting styles come together in magical harmony inside a mug.

          Silence rings out after the coffee is finished. It's a comforting song that sits on everything like a weighted blanket. It presents itself to my mind like a blank white board where I toss my thoughts and arrange them to spend a closer look. It, too, is a great gift. Quiet and slow mornings are oases in an otherwise hectic morning, traditionally. Both offer different things, the quiet & slow provides patience but can easily get boring; the hectic mornings offer fast pace and a sense of work purpose. There are no moments to sit back and ponder thoughts. There is only "take care of this" and "on to the next."  The key is the balance. 

Oh snap! My toast is done! See ya.  

Oak Road's Pseudolus Wit & Lucky Strike Cigarette

           It's been such a minute since I last wrote something that I've forgotten my template on these things. Fingers crossed it's still the same. 

          Moving forward is and should be very exciting, but at the same time it can also be very stressful, exhausting, draining, overbearing, and all other synonyms. I'm sitting at a wooden desk that cost $45 and 3 hours of effort plus a genius to actually build it. Beer glasses set up posts on this young desk, barely 24 hours old and it's been populated by empty containers. Things have a quick rhythm to their spots from the giant sketchpad with design sketches and thumbnails to the external hard drive humming to its own beat. My clipboard is littered with reminders and good morning notes and a crow feather sits atop for good luck. 

If I close my eyes and slow my breathing all sounds of cafe life disappear. The espresso machine stops hissing and humming, the milk stops screaming, chairs stop dragging the floor, bathroom doors stop slamming, excited discussions from patrons fade into the distance. Suddenly it's very quiet. My ears are able to block out the noise but my mind isn't able to block out the thoughts. I'm moving forward and i'm loving every minute of it, but if I thought I was busy before, then I was wrong. As much as i try to live in the moment, I cannot help but to constantly go over what is coming next. Thoughts of future tasks rival thoughts of things forgotten. The fear of failure driving each one to make a higher claim in my brain. Which one wins is not important. The destruction they cause negates any victory. 

My lungs expand to capacity. My body hunches over as air escapes through my mouth. I sigh more than I talk these days. Sometimes I don't even realize I'm doing it. It's just what I say to express what's on my mind. My life reminds me of a newbie stick-shift driver. Having to shift in between gears but not being comfortable yet. I'm switching between different modes of who I am at random times throughout the day. Learning that i don't get days off but rather moments. I'm having to ease the clutch so that there is no hard transition. I constantly force myself to smile and laugh when I don't want to; this is good, though, because it eases into a lighter mood instead of dredging down that burdened path. I'm learning how to occupy my time and not burn out. And it's a struggle but it's a willing struggle. Every night I go home happy because I know I advanced a little. Even if it really is a minuscule amount, I grew today and I will continue to grow. 

To all the people that took a leap and are sitting at home staring at the ground while they holler, "WHY DID YOU DO THIS!?" inside their minds; it gets easier. If you decided to challenge your life then, FUCK YES! You made the right choice no matter what stress you have now. You aren't use to this life and that is always going to be the case. You cannot advance in life if it's something you can comfortably ease into. You have to challenge yourself and push your limits to grow and be what you want yourself to be. So keep pushing on, don't let the stress crush you. Gain experience and tackle it. You don't need to be perfect in the begging. You don't need to be perfect in the end. You simply have to do your best and keep growing. 

Guatemalan Coffee & Toast With Jam

        The clock tells me it is only eleven fifty six in the morning on a rainy Sunday morning and yet it feels like it could be later or earlier at the same time. My coffee sings promises of productivity but the tray next to me shouts ideas of a contradictory sort. My desk vibrates under my arms with different stories, themes, morals, rebuttals, and jokes from many people from many places all channeling through a small box. There is flashing light providing me with assurance that I am connected to everybody in the world at a click of a Mighty Mouse. Rain pitter patters a beat across my ears showcasing different tones from the concrete to the cars and even against my office windows. Around the bend and up the stairs there sits a machine ticking away, yet failing in its duties to accurately tell me the time because it only ever says four twenty. There are plants meditating all around me that predetermined this calm and still day. There rumbles a tropical storm around my townhouse and I am thankful for this slow day. I can hardly remember the past few weeks swimming in to-do lists and responsibilities with floaties around my arms and a snorkel around my face. I am thankful for this slow day.