Blank Slate

I haven't been writing much. I've been reading. It's little bits of things - things I find at this place or other: Rushdie, Brautigan, Rolling Stone, Stolen Sharpie Revolution, and others.

They keep my attention for a few paragraphs. Then I throw them.

"Nope," I say. "Not for me."

I wonder if there is any point to anything. I even ask Brad about it at his retreat.

"Don't you ever feel like, 'What's the point?' "

"Yes," he says.

I listen as he tells me how he was over a friend's place watching Three's Company, and that it was a waste of time.

"People waste time in all kinds of ways," he says. "I prefer speding my time sitting, because of what I get out of the experience."

Makes sense. Meditation is productive for him. I don't know about me though. I mean, I don't mind kicking it for a little while, but 6 hours straight? That's karazee. Still, these Zen guys do it all the time.

Seems like a waste to me. If you're going to die, why not do things that are a bit more fun. Like fucking or dancing or eating or writing or painting...

I don't know. I guess I could waste just as much time in front of a television or computer. I could sit for a bit everyday.

But why?

I don't give a shit about Enlightenment. I just want to do my thing. I want a nice gal, some money, a dog, and a house on a mountain. Why do I have to meditate to get that stuff?

And God knows it's not very Zen to be wanting things anyway. Zen Folks are always dropping desires and all, and all I got our my desires to be comfortable and happy like some nomad, painting away in the Carribean like a Gauguin without the disease, and getting my water from some oasis cacti.

I guess that's my problem. Even my Gauguinian dream is 'wanting' and it's 'no wanting' that makes me feel better about right now. Wanting only makes me think about what I don't got, so what's the point in that.

Besides, who knows if the Gauguinian dream is really going to make me all that happy? I mean, imagine Pirooz in Tahiti just drawing in a room, until he got influenza and died. Is that fun?

Yes, totally. I love painting. It so turns me on. I guess maybe that's it. Maybe, I just need to bust out a painting. It's been 5 months or so since my last one, and that is my form of meditation. Nothing gets me in the zone like painting. It's what I keep returning to when I look within myself.

Yeah, I'll check out that possibility. Maybe, a painting and see what happens.

Who knows? I might not paint a thing.

Anyway, I know I'm all over the place right now. It's just too many questions for my mind to handle. When I paint, I don't think. I'm good and quiet. I could meditate and get the same quiet, and maybe I'll do a little of both, but painting is definitely my joy.

I have more questions. I will ask them with you later.