One has a moment in life when the horizon comes into view. Unable to hold onto old ideas we strive to recreate ourselves as perfectly as we can. I am in Malibu looking over the sea and I am not driven to look at porn nor throw a warm wank blanket over the day. My American spell check doesn’t recognize the word wank-but you all know what that means don’t you?
I am listening to Joni, her words either fill me full of hope or throw me into a terrible funk-thankfully I am happy today. There is a cool sea breeze to remind me that the ocean is just there, at the bottom of the hill. Sadly in the Gulf of Mexico avarice is ruining the water. More oil, more goddamned oil from which we refuse to wean ourselves. Sarah Palin has kept remarkably quiet about this environmental disaster that she said could never happen.
I have spent the past few nights with my 18th Century Man and it has been such a delight. Of course it’s hard not to compare what one had with what one has. The most significant difference is the proximity. I will never have a long distance love affair ever again. I am simply too fragile.
I will never again make the mistake of falling in love with a man who is not available. I am not the sort of person who can keep a secret, especially when it is steeped in shame. I have, in the words of my deceased Grandmother, lived a shameless life. She used the word pejoratively but actually she was right, I have been shameless and I am proud to be so. My proximity to the toxic shame of others is just as bad as experiencing ones own.
Even though I was born into shame I was a shameless boy. When I was a shameless boy they tried to tell me that I should be ashamed of who I was, the colour of my skin, my flamboyance, my birth, my teeth, my love, my understandable mistakes.
I hoped that I might meet a beautiful man and I have. It is wonderful to just experience the spontaneity, to drive to a coffee chop in Venice, to reach out and run your fingers through flaxen hair.
Last night we cooked dinner at his house in Venice with his super cool room-mate who incidentally knows Anna and Gwen and my lesbian art contingent. The night before we ate dinner at Axe. Roasted beats, huge chunks of halibut.
Of course I miss talking to that boy in NYC (of course I do) but I am enjoying the simplicity of what I have found here-the eagerness, the delicacy of his touch. The difference between men. I have no idea what I miss about what was. I think it was the rabid intensity that kept me diving into those choppy waters expecting not to be battered by the huge waves.
The moment I have any sort of expectation I am doomed. I feel battered from the last few months. Battered by doomed love. Battered by not knowing. Battered by resentment.
So, here I am-just as I have always been-on my own but with my eyes wide open. I have to read the treatment Ms Turner has sent me. I have to make my peace with writing once again. Writing and reading. I have to make peace with myself.
I am fast approaching a huge birthday and don’t really know how to celebrate it. I dare not ask fifty people for dinner but that’s what I think I would like to do.
On another note I have two sponsees in the 12-step programme I belong to and they give me such joy. Joy. Spent Sunday with one of them trying on hats and celebrating his birthday. The other keeps in touch daily reminding me why I am sober. It is time to keep the door open on recovery and all that means.
7 replies on “Happy Go Lucky”
Duncan,
Happy Go Lucky. Yay!
I was afraid that you were rebounding and jumping from a frying pan into a saucier. It seems though, that you have found a lovely spring sun to warm you gently, like wisteria or golden daffodils if they could be made into rays of sunlight. Their petals of light, falling gently over and around you. I’m so very happy for you. Your energy seems calm. Much less turbulent. Like the sea in an inlet when a storm has passed, resuming it’s more pacific nature.
As for the relationship that has passed…. You wee just out of rehab and feeling all the intensity of your body and your feelings that had so long been frozen. Their are in Nature, ice dams (Google ice dams, the Clark River & Idaho), that when they break, have tremendous force and can recreate a landscape. You’re in the process of recreation. All that psychic energy is set free.
You talked then, about getting what you’d wanted for ten years. Now you can get all the other good things that you’ve wished for. And thank God for unanswered prayers as well. That relationship was a stepping stone on the way to where you want to be and who you want to be with. It wasn’t THE relationship.
That you’re sponsoring others means that you’re working your program. Giving away to get. And in touch with your sponsor. And checking in with your Higher Power. And your higher self. Maybe you’ll let yourself see how far you’ve come. And as gentle or stern as you are with those you sponsor, I know that you will hold yourself to the same standard. * Metal Rabbit beams at Duncan & hands him the Sun tarot card, saying “It’s yours”: http://bit.ly/bCpZuq *
As for the oil spill…. Sometimes we need a disaster to persuade us to listen to our higher angels or to galvanize us into action. Think of MADD & Megan’s Law. The Exxon Valdez disaster didn’t seem to make an impression, so we needed a bigger one to wake us the hell up. Hopefully, the sacrifice of the people and animals, who have been & will be effected, will be honoured. Hopefully, people will stop buying the sizzle of the image of Palin (and others) and will notice that there’s unpalatable meat behind all the pretty sound bites and “wholesome” images. Hopefully, they’ll look for substance, elsewhere. I live in hope. Seriously, dude, I do.
Congrats on getting back to doing what you were born to do as an artist. I’m so happy that you seem grounded & centered.
As for your birthday…. Instead of inviting 50 friends/family to physically be with you, why not embrace the new tech by having a total of 50 special people, here, in the UK, Australia, and wherever, join you through Skype on a widescreen TV — rent one, just this once — and have them join with each other and you. Every contingent can have a party. Share food — some of your favorite dishes — and remembrances of shared fellowship. Celebrate you and each other. Just a thought.
Infinite blessings,
Amanda
🙂
Not going to white wash this.. Duncan.. your a man.. Date one.. enuf boys.. Feed your soul.
if you want 50 people at your bday, why not? glad to see your having fun D. life cant always be fun, so take it when you can, you cant take it with you when you go, but at least you’ll have good memories.
and the oil spill is going to be a disaster like we have never seen before. Nola sure catches hell.
I agree with robb. The photo shows someone who looks very very young. You need to date a man, not a boy. This (potentially) has disaster written all over it.
Duncan: Your writing sounds peaceful. Peace is good. Give peace a chance 🙂 And…live it up on your birthday. Throw the 50 at the 50th party. Sounds like a great way to honor yourself.
Duncan
Honestly I had no idea who you were until a few minutes ago when I wikipedia’d Sex Rehab and saw your well thought out criticisms of Dr. Drew. I, too, have some very harsh criticism for him and I warn you I do not mince words:
http://www.myspace.com/370392338
There is also some really weird stuff going on at that blog partly in relation to a movie/book I am writing which partially takes place in real life at Las Encinas Hospital (which of course will be renamed as this is fiction based on a true story, but the true story is so good in and of itself little fiction need be added. Unfortunately, we are also experiencing a number of very serious real life problems as a result of Las Encinas incompetence also written about at those blogs.
I sent you a MySpace E-Mail which details a lot of what I wished to say to you in this initial conversation I hope you will read. I would have sent you a friend request but you have that set up so only people who already know you-which I don’t yet-can actually friend you.
I saw your quite diverse list of musical interest-I used to be a Disc Jockey and collect and expose myself to a lot of new music. My collection covers the 20’s up until this week and is hand picked from the Billboard chart books for both singles and albums (concentrating on classic album cuts for the most part and hit singles, as opposed to entire albums except in rare cases) and covers pretty much all popular genres and formats.
Thanks and have a very nice birthday.
Rodney Peterson