I'm not sure what to think of my life right now.
I have a lot to be thankful for. The comic company is finally coming into its own, with a brand new newsletter and Joe stepping up to take some of the burden off my shoulders. I have a girlfriend, too - the lovely Mandy - who puts up with me and always offers encouragement. My brother's getting married. I have a big trip planned for the end of the summer. A lot of things are going my way.
The problem is, it's not going my way the way I expected it to. As of now, it's like I'm coursing down a moderately fast river with a lot of bends and turns...I can steer myself toward the most advantageous part of the stream, but that doesn't mean I'm in control of where it goes. It's exciting to be on the rapids. It's also fraught with peril. I'm not very good at thinking on my feet (although I'm starting to adapt); I like to plan things out in advance, boom boom boom, and not worry about what's going to happen next.
This'll sound corny (most of my friends are atheists), but I really trust in God right now...I believe he'll make everything work together for good, eventually. That doesn't make it easy. Trusting a big invisible man in the sky to divert my tinfoil canoe from a mass of spiky rock and whitewater always involves a lot of mental acrobatics. If God's on our side, why did my roommate hit a deer and total his car? What good can come of that? It's just more woe and trial and money down the drain. I resist the whole "existential education" thing, where every trial is supposed to teach us something about life. Sometimes I'd rather think of it as random bad shit. Meteor strikes. Wrong place at the wrong time. Otherwise existence would be one long "teachable moment"...I hate "teachable moments" and the people who use them, and the idea of life as a series of opportunities for someone to be condescending toward me is the definition of raving insanity.
Sorry for my darkish mood...I'm working construction right now, and it's extremely heavy manual labor. While it's happening you feel great (in a melty, sweaty way) but afterward you feel fuzzy and punch-drunk. And God help you on your days off...I actually get depressed. Somewhere between the adrenaline and testosterone and all that other hormone junk, popping off like firecrackers as you heft eighty-plus pound buckets and dig trenches, something's taken from you - your brain's a part of your body too, and any drain on the system will deplete it. I find myself craving sugar, especially soda, and it makes me wonder if my glucose-powered thinking-sponge is screaming for a little sustenance, or if it's just my baser appetites taking advantage of my weakness.
We know that physical exercise can be addictive. When you're not exercising, you end up in withdrawal - literally, in my case: I can't draw at all. I look at my comic and I'm like, "meh"...and take a walk. Maybe I should start exercising in the morning or something. Who the hell knows. I'm just worried that I'll lose the love of my art, simply because I have something else to give me that rush.
I dunno...I'm only doing this job for the summer anyway. Then it's down the Mississippi. Clear my mind, reset everything, not worry about chasing a dollar or advancing my career or coordinating my plans to see my friends, girlfriend, and family. I know that an excess of excitement can be just as bad as a surfeit of sorrow, and I tend to get depressed at the extremes...I guess, deep down, I'm just really boring. I need that even keel, a 9-5 job, a permanent address. It's interesting that the more I crave that stability, the more chaos seems to befall me. Despite all my aspirations to normalcy, my life just keeps getting stranger and stranger. Perhaps it's my destiny to be always on the edge, never able to settle down, never quite catching what I reach for - a sojourner in this world.
Not to be dramatic or anything.
I know everything will even out eventually. It seems like things are sort of working out for my long-term goals, at the expense of my short-term goals (one of which is, "maintain sanity"). I haven't thought much past my big trip in September, but that's kind of the point - it's a cleansing experience, to flush out all the half-brained notions, wild speculations, and panicked flailing. Who knows what the future will bring? I only hope this wild river run I'm currently on will slow down and flatten out, and I'll be able to drift for a while, not worrying about the next river bend.
Rick Out.
***UPDATE 7/10/17***
Sooo...I got re-hired at the print shop again. Go figure. Back to working full-time, and not having to worry about getting sent home because there's no work. Praise the Lord...but don't pull anymore funny shit on me, Jesus ole buddy; my poor heart can't take it. This "Live Like Job" crap isn't all that it's cut out to be.
This means my plans for a Mississippi trip are wrecked for the time being; there's no way I can just take a month off to do whatever I want. But I'm okay with that. Adventure can wait a little longer, I'm happy to have some stability.
I've re-read the above post and thought, "Jesus Christ, here's a hanky"...but I don't think I'll delete it. There's something about leaving a record of my ups and downs that appeals to me right now; I have a tendency to let my professional demeanor overrun the personal stuff. I doubt all this angsty crap is interesting to read. Even so, it's a part of me, a part of Rick, and this blog is a little part of me too.
ANYWHO...skip this post and go find something funner! I've got a lot of comics reviews squirreled away somewhere, and some other random, cool stuff. I might start doing my sketch dumps again, which would spice up things for sure.
Rick Out (again).
I have a lot to be thankful for. The comic company is finally coming into its own, with a brand new newsletter and Joe stepping up to take some of the burden off my shoulders. I have a girlfriend, too - the lovely Mandy - who puts up with me and always offers encouragement. My brother's getting married. I have a big trip planned for the end of the summer. A lot of things are going my way.
The problem is, it's not going my way the way I expected it to. As of now, it's like I'm coursing down a moderately fast river with a lot of bends and turns...I can steer myself toward the most advantageous part of the stream, but that doesn't mean I'm in control of where it goes. It's exciting to be on the rapids. It's also fraught with peril. I'm not very good at thinking on my feet (although I'm starting to adapt); I like to plan things out in advance, boom boom boom, and not worry about what's going to happen next.
This'll sound corny (most of my friends are atheists), but I really trust in God right now...I believe he'll make everything work together for good, eventually. That doesn't make it easy. Trusting a big invisible man in the sky to divert my tinfoil canoe from a mass of spiky rock and whitewater always involves a lot of mental acrobatics. If God's on our side, why did my roommate hit a deer and total his car? What good can come of that? It's just more woe and trial and money down the drain. I resist the whole "existential education" thing, where every trial is supposed to teach us something about life. Sometimes I'd rather think of it as random bad shit. Meteor strikes. Wrong place at the wrong time. Otherwise existence would be one long "teachable moment"...I hate "teachable moments" and the people who use them, and the idea of life as a series of opportunities for someone to be condescending toward me is the definition of raving insanity.
Sorry for my darkish mood...I'm working construction right now, and it's extremely heavy manual labor. While it's happening you feel great (in a melty, sweaty way) but afterward you feel fuzzy and punch-drunk. And God help you on your days off...I actually get depressed. Somewhere between the adrenaline and testosterone and all that other hormone junk, popping off like firecrackers as you heft eighty-plus pound buckets and dig trenches, something's taken from you - your brain's a part of your body too, and any drain on the system will deplete it. I find myself craving sugar, especially soda, and it makes me wonder if my glucose-powered thinking-sponge is screaming for a little sustenance, or if it's just my baser appetites taking advantage of my weakness.
We know that physical exercise can be addictive. When you're not exercising, you end up in withdrawal - literally, in my case: I can't draw at all. I look at my comic and I'm like, "meh"...and take a walk. Maybe I should start exercising in the morning or something. Who the hell knows. I'm just worried that I'll lose the love of my art, simply because I have something else to give me that rush.
I dunno...I'm only doing this job for the summer anyway. Then it's down the Mississippi. Clear my mind, reset everything, not worry about chasing a dollar or advancing my career or coordinating my plans to see my friends, girlfriend, and family. I know that an excess of excitement can be just as bad as a surfeit of sorrow, and I tend to get depressed at the extremes...I guess, deep down, I'm just really boring. I need that even keel, a 9-5 job, a permanent address. It's interesting that the more I crave that stability, the more chaos seems to befall me. Despite all my aspirations to normalcy, my life just keeps getting stranger and stranger. Perhaps it's my destiny to be always on the edge, never able to settle down, never quite catching what I reach for - a sojourner in this world.
Not to be dramatic or anything.
I know everything will even out eventually. It seems like things are sort of working out for my long-term goals, at the expense of my short-term goals (one of which is, "maintain sanity"). I haven't thought much past my big trip in September, but that's kind of the point - it's a cleansing experience, to flush out all the half-brained notions, wild speculations, and panicked flailing. Who knows what the future will bring? I only hope this wild river run I'm currently on will slow down and flatten out, and I'll be able to drift for a while, not worrying about the next river bend.
Rick Out.
***UPDATE 7/10/17***
Sooo...I got re-hired at the print shop again. Go figure. Back to working full-time, and not having to worry about getting sent home because there's no work. Praise the Lord...but don't pull anymore funny shit on me, Jesus ole buddy; my poor heart can't take it. This "Live Like Job" crap isn't all that it's cut out to be.
This means my plans for a Mississippi trip are wrecked for the time being; there's no way I can just take a month off to do whatever I want. But I'm okay with that. Adventure can wait a little longer, I'm happy to have some stability.
I've re-read the above post and thought, "Jesus Christ, here's a hanky"...but I don't think I'll delete it. There's something about leaving a record of my ups and downs that appeals to me right now; I have a tendency to let my professional demeanor overrun the personal stuff. I doubt all this angsty crap is interesting to read. Even so, it's a part of me, a part of Rick, and this blog is a little part of me too.
ANYWHO...skip this post and go find something funner! I've got a lot of comics reviews squirreled away somewhere, and some other random, cool stuff. I might start doing my sketch dumps again, which would spice up things for sure.
Rick Out (again).
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