Triumphs and wrecking into walls

Ugh. I'm ok. Everyone is all right.

Life continues to test me... Maybe? If I were religious, I'd fall back on the solace:

"God doesn't give you what you can't handle."

A friend said this once, and though, I don't subscribe, it stuck. I'd like to believe it. Hell, I'd like to believe there is nothing I can't handle. And after this year (the past two years, really), I'm thinking something otherworldly is going on. Or I'm being Punk'd. And Ashton Kutcher is about to pop up at any moment to apologize and laugh. We can all laugh. I'm already laughing...

So last Wednesday (Abbie's birthday, by the way) whilst parking, I rammed my car into someone's retaining wall. Up over a sidewalk, bending my wheel and flattening my tire, then SMACK...er CRUNCH. Like I said, everyone is ok; it's being handled. Still, the money and the nuisance of it are enough to have me thinking I've got some kind of curse going on. Abbie tells me 25 and 27 are transitional years and planets are shifting and rocking their orbits. Something. I don't know. I'm now 28.  The jig is up, Universe.

But along with the grief and the loss and the changes and the confusion and the theft (yes, there was some credit theft thrown in there too)... there have been good things. Great things even. 

This weekend was my art show at The Headkeeper in Greensburg. I'm always so humbled by the turnout—the friends and acquaintances from every part of my life coming together for me and my paintings. I find that after two shows, this one being my second, there is no greater feeling than that type of appreciation. Who knew people would come to like my scribbles?

I'm lucky. 

That's what everyone wants to hear. And they are right. I am. It's not that I don't appreciate it all, because I do, but all of my good fortune seems to be overshadowed by (or at least in battle with) some really grey clouds.

I come here to bitch. I come here to ask WHY of the world. Who knows. I'm blogging today, you know, and I'm reminded to look up this "Job" character from the Bible. Kelly keeps telling me to read about him. I did. I don't know... I mean, we know how I feel about religion. But I like the gist—I like what it's telling us, according to some author trying to analyze:

If the Book of Job reaches across two and a half millennia to teach anything to men and women who consider themselves normal, decent human beings, it is this: Human beings are sure to wander in ignorance and to fall into error, and it is better — more righteous in the eyes of God — for them to react by questioning rather than accepting. Confronted with inexplicable injustice, it is better to be irate than resigned.

—William Safire, The First Dissident^[3]

Irate! iRate? iResign?

Listen, everything is going to be fine. I keep saying it. I keep saying it to tell myself. Assure.

On another note, I finally got my moon phase tattoo... on D's birthday. She hated tattoos. She hated the idea of my inking myself; however, she grew to love my paper plane after some time. And since she always said I was the moon... I think it's ok to have something that reminds me. That I am. I didn't get it solely for her or because of her, but I got it FINALLY after over a year of loving on it.






I'm phasing. I swear... this has to turn out on its upside, yeah?


Be good,
mt

Art-drunk & Inspired: Local artist Gabe Felice makes memories at Headkeeper

Last eve, at Headkeeper in Greensburg, Gabe Felice had his gallery opening. Sweetness! This kid has it going on as an artist, man. No joke. Sometimes I wonder if he's been peeking in at my brain and painting it. His art is bold, intricate and nearly intoxicating: lines, colors and distinct faces that peek at you from everywhere. Go Gabe!

Along with the surreal nature of Gabe's abstract musings, the night seemed just as fantastical with an interesting mash-up of banjo and electric guitar—that you couldn't take your eyes from—and a man giving free tarot card readings.

Cuban-inspired pizza with diced pickles! Swoon-worthy!

Headkeeper, located in downtown Greensburg, PA, is a local tapas bar with a tasty, ever-changing gourmet menu and a wall of over 600 kinds of beer, both imports and domestics. I won't lie, the wall of beer is what had me hooked since the dawn of its inception. Hey, I like options: buffets, a plethora of Pandora radio stations, t-shirts in every color, a draw spilling over with pens. It's true!

Since its inception, this dreamy hangout with its industrial decor, colorful culinary creations and all-around sweet vibe has really given Greensburg a shove in the right direction. To think, just a few years ago, my friends and I were stopping by the same locale [the adjacent six-pack shop] to pick up 40's of Mickey's. These days, Headkeeper hosts art shows, live entertainment and even beer-tasting events. We really got lucky with this one, fellow Greensburgers.


On a more personal note, one of the highlights of the night for me was getting my cards read.

Image from the Rider-Waite deck.

I've read cards since high school, so I mean, I'm no newb to such things. But! To have someone else read them is always much more beneficial. Besides, we all have different energies, right?

I am the moon! Mister tarot reader tells me it's my "super power." I've been telling my friends this for, like, a year, at least. Even if I've got the fire of the sun, Leo, in me, I'm mostly moon. I think Atwood's poem, "Tricks with Mirrors," is a great way of highlighting some of the negativity I feel about being "the moon." 

"Don't assume it is passive/ or easy, this clarity/ with which I give you yourself." —Atwood

He made some good points, though: the phases; the fact that the moon is great at observing patterns—a helpful way to learn from the cycles of life and myself. Still, the moon's secretive otherworldly darkness and ability to reflect the brightness of others is where my real truth lies.

So what?

A little nugget of validation is all. That and lots of "truths" that eve. I suppose that was the most lively Sunday night in a long time: mystical insight, gabs with friends, colorful art staring back at you and a boy beating sounds from a banjo.

mt