Life

The Waiting Game #worstgameever

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Get outta here. Just happen already. Let’s DO this.

Do you ever struggle with patience? I do. For many, patience is a virtue. For me, it just virtually sucks. I guess I’ve just never been very good at it.

A focus of mine, as a blogger, is to turn negative issues into positive.

I hope to leave my readers inspired and give them something tangible for their lives.

Spoiler alert: there is no lesson here, I’m just complaining. Leave while you can.

The Waiting Room of Life

Last September, I sent transfer applications to five universities all over the country. The schools span from Hawaii to New York. I thought, why not? With my wife, it’s our chance to roam.

The applications were finished. In the words I wrote, I staked my future. As an artist it was my heaviest project yet. It was the best epic I could muster.

In the end, these forms held my linguistic DNA. I put everything into them—everything but the impatient part, I guess. That was left with me to suffer, to yearn.

Narcissus & Goldmund 

I’ve been reading Hermann Hesse lately, specifically the novel Narcissus and Goldmund. Last night, I came upon a passage I quite liked—a discussion between two artists.

Be patient! I’m well aware of what it is like to have completed a piece of work that was of great personal significance. I know that empty feeling. It will pass, believe me.

This soothed my soul. I’m not exactly sure why, I submitted college applications over six months ago. My problem is patience, not art. But still, as an artist, I never confronted the emptiness I was left with after submitting these papers.

Yet another reason to hate the waiting game.

I’d appreciate any good stories or tales of impatience. Can you relate? Help me out here!

 [photo cred: http://www.flickr.com/photos/8398214@N05/3214687264/]

The Intern Whoop: Taking a Local Day Pt. 2
Last year, I discovered newness inside my town and wrote a blog detailing this adventure: Local businesses and new people; I got outside—it was great. Check out, “Taking a Local Day” HERE.

Part Duex

On the first of the year, my wife and I moved from snowy Coeur d’ Alene, Idaho to sunny San Luis Obispo, California. I grew up here in SLO county, well south county, I guess.

Despite my history here, everything seemed new; the mountains had never looked greener and skies had never been bluer. The local troves held new names and faces, while their sidewalks ferried fresh bodies to and fro.

We were in a land of newness and I was bound to explore it.

Then we got jobs. Well, I got an internship and she got a job.

Makin’ Copies

My internship so far has been ideal. There isn’t much grunt work, and I’m treated as an employee with as much to say as anyone else. Though yesterday, I made copies for five hours.

Five hours. I can still smell it. The copies.

In the middle of my copying madness, I was given a quick job to distribute a notice to all the local businesses in our strip regarding a meeting of some sort.

I welcomed the break.

Makin’ Discoveries

strip mall

outside

There were twelve of these notices to hand out. I peeked outside, “there’s twelve shops here?”

For over two months I’ve worked here. Besides the coffee shop, I had no idea who my neighbors were.

“There’s twelve shops?” I repeated.

So once again, I ventured out; I took a local day. Shaking hands, I discovered business owners, employees and their products.

One shop offered full car-audio installation, with a contract for city police vehicles (two were inside). Another shop sold used baby clothes, and right next to it, golf gear. Further down, I met some kids working in a skateboarding warehouse who specialized in online sales; further down, there was a Muay Thai kick boxing ring.

Like us, they were all just trying to make their mark and tell their story. Before yesterday, they didn’t exist. At least not to me.

Reminded

It’s terrible, our bubbles. We hide inside and shut out the world—sometimes on purpose, most times unknowingly. Like a horse race, we focus on the goal and miss the uniqueness that surrounds it, even if the goal is just a parking spot.

Culture is a beautiful thing. Sometimes, embracing it is as simple as walking outside.

Any good stories of meeting your neighbors? What else can we do to break our daily routines? Are all routines bad? I’d love some feedback.