I was born and bred in Southern California, often referred to as the epicenter of the world. In my front yard the Pacific spanned in every direction as far as the eye could see. My back yard held the treasures of the San Gabriel mountain range. Some of the best terrain on the planet earth. I was big into skiing, backpacking, fly fishing, canyoneering and rock climbing but two loves outshined them all.
It’s like the old joke, a guy goes to see his doctor and says. I’m a wigwam I’m a teepee I’m a wigwam I’m a teepee. The doctor says relax, your two tents. My sheer passion for cycling and sailing would always rule the day, back then and now always fighting for my attention. Everything else was just a hobby, these, my passions are my lifestyle. The cameras I carry, the tools of the trade, food and clothing are merely for survival To live in the void is where I find peace but it’s dangerous being me. My vision has been trying to do me in my whole life. More often than not I’m lost, when I go down, I go down hard. It’s easy enough to get up, dust myself off and keep on keeping on but it’s like I’m always being chased by the devil. When you least expect it, expect it.
Today I rode my bike further than I have since I’ve been back with only a slight burning sensation. Now my lungs are stronger than my legs which have withered away due to my sedation. I’ve been laying in bed for 6 weeks straight, so long that I’m actually seeing a bald spot form on the back of my head. I try and fight the depression but it’s futile, so many hours of nothing. I went straight from having my fun meter pegged all day every day to lights out. The cold wet damp and dark days mirror my brain. Some days I forget to eat, others I simply don’t feel like it. This black whole is deep and I’m falling at terminal velocity.
I know if I could just put the boat in the water everything would be ok, but I can’t or I won’t… my ukulele hates me, I’m trying to find the sounds that I hear in my head. I’ve gone through more G strings than a stripper at Cruising Chubby’s but just can’t find my song. The bottle has taken over my life, I’m a hobo in Patagucci. I spend the day not looking though my eyes but watching down on my self, I am my own voyeur and I don’t like what I see. I know I can pull out but fear it will get worse before it gets better. Maybe my spirit animal is a bear, if I was a spirit bear I could just hibernate till spring. One hour of sunlight was pure as nectar, I could feel It soaking into my soul, it was almost warm today. I think of many things as I live in complete silence but mostly I think of the insignificance of time…