5/16/2006 - Analog to Digital

It's been a long time since I've written in a bound journal, and I am interested to see what sort of difference this will make as far as writing goes.

This is how it all started. Thoughts are viscous and fluid when they are flowing from the ink of a pen. There is a natural beginning and end to it as my fingers fatigue and the page runs out of space. When was the last time I really "wrote"?

It may just be the delirium produced by sitting in the sun all day... but my handwriting is dancing for me in a way that type-written work never could. I was saying to Karen earlier that we'd come full circle. I have been at the mercy of circumstance for the past few days; I've resigned myself not to the meticulous planning and execution of my own intentions, but rather to the intentions of hands that lead me- to the intentions of the hands of fate, and to the heartbeat and pulse of this city.

Finally (almost), I am learning to embrace change, and to fall and rise with it while still keeping my head more or less straight. Today I listened to people talk and asked a lot of questions. it is so beautiful to swim around in other people's minds. What mysteries.... what uncharted territory. I feel like a scientist venturing to wonder at the composition of the cosmos.

What are you, stranger? You are a delicacy fit for a king.

I have made a multitude of definitive statements lately, as in, "Listen here sir, this is this." It seemed to work for a long time as if that was where I needed to be right then. I am often in the habit of thinking in place, watching all other thoughts float by. Now I am reaching out into the world with a question mark in my hand and the thoughts are washing me free like warm water, or cold air. I want to listen more, I am liking being a listener. There is so much noise here and I want to listen to all of it. L.A. is a good place to be a listener because it is so full of voices dying to be heard.

There is so much purity and simplicity in our intentions. The overgrowth of confused motivations makes that difficult to see sometimes. We all want to touch and be touched in one way or another.

There are always two sides to me. I feel as if on the outside I seem conflicted and confused. I have done very little to indicate otherwise. On the other side of things though, I have never felt so much clarity in my life- I see a clear cut direction taking me on a journey of endless fulfillment. Shall I venture to say that this is my dream, and I am living it? Shall I venture to conclude that I feel a sense of purpose, and I can almost touch it?