Sunday, April 5, 2009

Lost in Triangulation....

Whenever I get the chance to spend a day flitting around the ol' In-tro-net I inevitably stop by a lot of the blogs here on e that I used to have the time to ponder on a daily basis. I never seem to have the time or attention span to do more with this network of invisible passageways than log on, check my email, write my Chudblog and then log off, as I've really tried to up the ante with my writing (and shopping the fucking writing too, which usually puts me in a foul mood) and don't wander as much.

Anyway.

It always fascinates me and makes me a bit sad to read all the glorious diatribes and ideas that go down on my Ohio friends' blogs. Dayton is something of an adopted foster home for me (through my wife) and the city, as well as all those glorious folks I know back there (what's up y'all!!!) have such a community - something I do not have AT ALL - that it makes me miss them and the place all the more. I always find myself wondering, what would it be like to know a place so well that the names of the shop keeps and the daisy chain of acquaintances who expand out from around them border and frame my own understanding and subsequently interaction with the place, so that whether I'm three feet in front of my house, five miles away in a bar that I like or buying a new set of strings from a music shop I'm in the presence not just of neighbors, but people. People not as in 'yeah, what else walks around on two legs and opens guitar shops, runs roller derby leagues or stumbles out of a bar into traffic I'm actually interacting with people - people who I know or know of, or in at least one case in the above make a mental note to recognize and never interact with again. No, out here in vast sprawling Los Angeles I have no neighbors - not next door to me or down at the bar. Not in the coffee shops I might breeze into and out of as quickly as possible or at the restaurants I've chosen to adore. It's definitely down to my own damn fault at least 60%, and it's also the uprooted factor that accompanies leaving behind everything you know, but it's also the product of my own distancing from the things around me for the things I'm trying to train and translate within me. This of course is something that must be done, but I cannot help but wondering what I would write if I could live in a place like Dayton for a year.

Maybe one day we'll know, eh???

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