One must imagine Sisyphus happy.

Today I finally sat down to read Albert Camus' essay, The Myth of Sisyphus. 
(Thank you for that Cachorra Mia!)

I read it aloud and finished it with tears in my eyes and great emotion swelling in my chest. 

free floating, shot on film by Mi Cachorra

I instantly felt changed by it and wanted to read it again & again, to set so many of its gorgeous phrases to memory, to metabolize them fully and use them to fuel my thinking moving forward.

I'm reminded & struck by the similarities of Camus' Sisyphus to Nietzsche's idea of the eternal return: while Sisyphus was punished by the gods and made to push a stone up a hill again & again for all eternity, Nietzsche described reality as recurring in an endless cycle, so one's life is destined to be relived & relived & relived.

reaching for new heights - double exposure on film by Mi Cachorra

Is the human condition merely one's collection of actions which lead to the forging of our fate, timeless and inescapable? Some would call this tragedy, and indeed Camus wrote,

"[The gods] thought with some reason that 
there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor."

Both writers have been generally regarded as being nihilistic in their philosophies, but I disagree. 

Wholeheartedly. 

I see both as acknowledging the absurdity of existence, and instead of wallowing in despair, they look beyond and find solace in Amor Fati, 

the love of one's fate:

double exposure of my heart

"The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man's heart."

24 steps to poetry

This morning we walked again to our favorite cafe for more croissants, coffee and more un-creative writing. Mi Chachorra got inspired and came up with a wonderful 24 step shortcut to craft a poem:

Step 1. Snatch an inspiring short sentence filled with interesting words.

(the initial sentence she wrote for me on step 1 already).

Steps 2-23. Follow directions to the best of your ability.

Step 24. Arrange as desired and sign it!

My initial sentence:

The universe is starting to fold into itself like a wild accordion.

The end result:

* * *

My dear burden,

to unfold itself. Limitless

red, like the wild

eruption.

"Warped" flitter, a

universe arises.

(BOOM)

Irrevocable moon.

Antidote after a long week

Recipe for a weird and long week (á la cocktail):
-Take 2 Master's applications to complete, along with 2 letters of recommendations each, and the obligatory APA-syled application essay.
-Throw in the crafting of a GoFundMe page for a friend dealing with cancer.
-Mash alongside a slowly creeping to suddenly incapacitating trigeminal pain; consider a trip to the ER, medicate overnight, then alleviate with a deep root canal.
-Add a sprinkling of several interview meetings, one great, one challenging, and one very promising intro talk.
-Optional: splash 4 bird prints on the north-facing window in the early morning for added effect.
-Garnish with a death in the family, and serve over an impromptu Friday night discussion on difficult parenting situations over tacos and margaritas.

This morning we embarked under the bright Saturday sun with our bags and masks and assortment of writing implements - arriving at Antidote we sat outside, reading & slowly getting caffeinated. I opened a book on brainwashing, while she opened one called Blood & Guts in High School. Two boorish dudes who spoke of boorish things sitting near us got tired and left. Dogs came and went. We enjoyed the croissants and the fan blowing our way, until the heat got so we moved indoors to write some uncreative poetry.
A small girl with a colorful mask and cute curls stopped by and played with us a bit while her parents got their coffee. She laughed and made eyes. On her way out, she sweetly patted a happy dog, and then waved goodbye to it a bit too close to its face. The dog didn't seem to mind.
On the roof of the house next door, two squirrels chase each other.
I went to the bathroom where I imagined doing very dirty things with Mi Cachorra. When it was her turn to go, I tasked her with sending me something dirty, and she danced and showed me her desire, playful, giving, always fresh. In the background, Tiger Lilies songs mix alongside a Metallica cover of Unforgiven (unplugged). I love Mi Chachorra, and I love our new life here.

Morning Balcony Musings

This beautiful morning my wife and I are sitting on our balcony chairs for the first time overlooking the park and restarting our blogs. Across the street countless people lead countless pets (or is it the other way around?) out for a walk. She smiles as she stands up to shoot each doggo & human with her camera. Quesadillas are heating in the oven.

I find myself in a new place, both physically and metaphorically, and looking back on my past, I can recognize now how much I've changed and grown. I feel a calm certainty in being able to exert concious direction over the coming spaces I want to grow in, like a butterfly once it's come out of its coccoon. It writhes out slowly, stands right next to the now empty husk, seemingly taking stock of its surroundings in its new phase, recognizing the thing that once held it. The thing that was both protection and limitation, now can be cast aside. It looks around and sees the world with its new eyes, new body, new possibilities, and then slowly start to unfurl its wings so it can reach new spaces, new capabilities, new life, new heights.

To the butterfly it appears to be a brave new world, but the world is constantly changing, constantly renewed. Sometimes a change in circumstance can make all the difference.

I am feeling so thankful to be in this new place, and I'm feeling good - feeling as alive as when I am traveling, energized, and excited about exploring and filling each moment with as much positivity, passion, art, and adventure as possible. This is an inflection point in my life. It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me...and I'm feeling good.