Here is an unpublished post from 2017. I find it interesting, from my desk in Vegas, my New Western home...
I haven't written a blog in a long time--it's something in my nearsightedness. I always told myself I would write when I travel, when my eyes are wider open, more sensitive to detail, more willing to see beauty. But since my last entry I've been to Malmö and Prague and Copenhagen--twice! So what is it? Writer's block? No--I've written a musical since then. Laziness? I honestly don't think so.
I think I have turned inward lately--a real important travel on the byways of my heart and atmosphere of my mind. I looked outward so intensely and cherished every sense and something quite natural occurred: my eyes were turned within. The universe holds my galaxy holds my solar system holds my planet holds my continent holds my environment holds my body holds my organs holds my cells holds my DNA holds my atoms which are universes. A chain unbroken, from infinity to infinity. Eventually looking deep will draw me out again, but I am not there quite yet.
And I have learned quite a bit, especially about those particularly profound things, like love and who I am, when I stop being what I thought I was. I'm doing things for myself now, slowly, because it is important. And I've learned about wellness and the absence thereof, and how it's all tied together: physical, emotional, psychological, spiritual. If you are sick in one place, the infection will spread.
I read a lot of good books and looked into eyes, universes of their own, eyes I could have never stopped looking into, but had to. I have come to understand real heartbreak, abandonment and betrayal and also connection, acceptance and loyalty. I have grown into myself, as a tree, stretching ever higher and ever deeper, one with the other.
In one direction I travel back into the East--the China of my youth and the orientation that has led me here. In the other direction, I dream of what horizon I have yet to reach.
I am not in soil I can stay in forever. That siren's voice is calling again, and I am willingly waiting for a sail to hoist into the wind. To distant shores--terra incognita.
The proverbial Occidental.
I haven't written a blog in a long time--it's something in my nearsightedness. I always told myself I would write when I travel, when my eyes are wider open, more sensitive to detail, more willing to see beauty. But since my last entry I've been to Malmö and Prague and Copenhagen--twice! So what is it? Writer's block? No--I've written a musical since then. Laziness? I honestly don't think so.
I think I have turned inward lately--a real important travel on the byways of my heart and atmosphere of my mind. I looked outward so intensely and cherished every sense and something quite natural occurred: my eyes were turned within. The universe holds my galaxy holds my solar system holds my planet holds my continent holds my environment holds my body holds my organs holds my cells holds my DNA holds my atoms which are universes. A chain unbroken, from infinity to infinity. Eventually looking deep will draw me out again, but I am not there quite yet.
And I have learned quite a bit, especially about those particularly profound things, like love and who I am, when I stop being what I thought I was. I'm doing things for myself now, slowly, because it is important. And I've learned about wellness and the absence thereof, and how it's all tied together: physical, emotional, psychological, spiritual. If you are sick in one place, the infection will spread.
I read a lot of good books and looked into eyes, universes of their own, eyes I could have never stopped looking into, but had to. I have come to understand real heartbreak, abandonment and betrayal and also connection, acceptance and loyalty. I have grown into myself, as a tree, stretching ever higher and ever deeper, one with the other.
In one direction I travel back into the East--the China of my youth and the orientation that has led me here. In the other direction, I dream of what horizon I have yet to reach.
I am not in soil I can stay in forever. That siren's voice is calling again, and I am willingly waiting for a sail to hoist into the wind. To distant shores--terra incognita.
The proverbial Occidental.
