Dear Friends,
Eventually, you stop buying frozen pizzas in favor of long heavy tubes of ground beef and five-pound bags of chicken breast. You start eying expensive cooking implements with envy. You starting asking questions like, "does this trip to Publix constitute a complete nutritional palette?" and "will this box of Honey Nut Cheerios go stale before I finish it?" A moment of silence, my dear friends, for our lost innocence. May we all once again subsist, in some happy future, on pureed carrots and unsweetened applesauce.
On a similar (but less relatable) note, I've stopped using electric lights. Borrowing from the wisdom of my Haitian friends, I bought a handful of cheap candle holders and a couple pounds of dinner candles. I don't know if it saves me money, but a) I love lighting matches, and b) it's easier to focus when you can only see objects within a couple feet of the light source. There a mini chandelier in my dining room, and all the light bulbs are partially unscrewed except one so that it's not too bright when I turn it on. I'd find a similar solution for the kitchen, but my knives are too sharp for that.
Sometimes it's all I can do to survive. No matter how easy or difficult my life has been, there have always been times I have had to... maintain. Take a moment, breathe, wait for the next moment. Sometimes it helps to be equipped for those moments; I keep my dining table equipped with candles, a sketchpad, and a variety of drawing implements (though I'm a terrible artist). My computer has a Mellow playlist when I feel like moping to Iron and Wine and Sigur Rós. I keep myself stocked with comedies and chocolate chip cookies (various of my friends can attest to the magic of frozen homemade cookies).
While I acknowledge that life is wont to hover just North of bearable, I'm also starting to glimpse my own capacity for contentedness. My daily routine glows with a thousand joys, from a favorite song strumming from my beloved set of speakers to that five pound bag of chicken breast waiting for an oven, a sprinkle of lemon juice, and baby potatoes. There are times when I think the unthinkable: that if this were all there were to life... maybe it would be okay.
"Misery loves company," as they say; but maybe that's just because it's so easy to find. Draw a deep breath, smile painfully, and tell any stranger that life is complex. That love sucks. That boys are smelly. Your odds of getting a commiserating nod (except for the last, which might only work with the "Hello Kitty" demography) are high. But what if you were to say, "isn't life wonderful?" Suddenly you're just lucky and/or naïve. I think being happy and alone is hard to manage.
But possible, by the grace of God. I hope y'all are doing well (look at me, talkin' like a southerner); I am.
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I'm working on a poetry anthology. Read and comment so I don't look like an idiot when I submit it!
See pictures of my apartment and of work. (Look for the album labeled "Apt #1614" and "Poker Room," respectively.)
View the FUN Archives.You can contact me by replying to this e-mail. To send letters or packages, use the following address:
Dan Kaschel
4747 W Waters Ave., Apt #1614
Tampa, FL 33614
My phone number is 813-313-6573.
Peace,
Dan
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