Something and Nothing

One moment, you're on top of everything.  You have more options to do things than you can handle and you have to make selections.  You feel glutted with life.

And then the line goes dead.

Suddenly there are no phone calls, no texts, no emails, no models to shoot. . . nothing.

And you begin to wonder.  You reflect and realize that when you thought that the calendar was full, you had really done nothing at all.  It was all an illusion.

It doesn't take much to make life seem full, and it doesn't take much to make if feel empty.  The difference it minuscule and psychological.

The difference is huge and tangible.

Late yesterday afternoon, I met with the fellow who has recommended to us all the writings of Spackman at a wonderful outdoor bar connected to the town's little art movie theater.  Martinis on the veranda.  Life is big and pleasant that way.  When he left, I saw some people I knew at another table who called me over.  They were lit profs, one at Country Club College and the other at State U.  I have known them both for some time and we began to catch up.  Somewhere in the conversation, talk turned to the big t.v. series on HBO and Showtime and Starz.  We all agreed they were tremendously well done and that we were all addicted to certain ones.  Now I have held that "Mad Men" is the best written thing on television since it first came on years ago.  I believe it firmly, but I remember that when I first started reading Cormac McCarthy long, long ago before he was a common topic at the universities, I told some profs that all writers could put down their pens, that McCarthy was writing THE prose of the century, better than Faulkner.  They scoffed.  Worse.  I couldn't even get them to read him.  Of course my opinions have been redeemed a thousand times over.  So when I offered my opinions about "Mad Men" to the table last night, I feared more scoffing.  Indeed not, though.  They agreed.

This morning I saw an article in the N.Y. Times about an academic blog that is dedicated to analyzing "Mad Men."  Hell yes.  I knew it.  I knew it was that good.  I read for a little bit there, though, and some of what was said was so far off the mark I felt the need to correct it.  But I didn't.  I won't.  I don't have time.  I would get caught up in something I need not.  It would be awful.  But here's the link to the story if you want to take up the mantle.

Saturday.  What would make me happy today?  What do I desire?  Whatever it is, it is certain to be in short supply.  That is the way of the happy life full of desire.  Perhaps I should try reading  "The Diamond Sutra" one more time.