The Song Remains the Same. Except for the Moment in Which it Changes.

Late last night. Well. Early this morning. Actually neither. I starting writing this post yesterday. But I rather appreciate the way "late last night" and "early this morning" sound. So. You may refer to this as creative license. But. I am just letting you know. If you do in fact know.

Anyway. Late last night. Well. Early this morning. Ahem. Over coffee with too much sugar. And when I say sugar. I am referring to that delightful overly processed bleached to high hell will give you cancer in twenty years regular ol' comes in a fifty pound bag white as snow sugar.

Yeah. Never trust whitey. Waitwaitwait. I was talking about sugar.

Sugar. Coffee. And sugar. Drip coffee with too much sugar. I never really drink coffee. Unless it is very late at night. Or very early in the morning. And I am having some sort of insightful conversation with you or you or you.

Then. And only then. Do I drink coffee. Drip coffee. Drip coffee with too much sugar. I stopped measuring the sugar a long time ago. I just pick up the container and pour. And most people stare a bit. Sometimes an eyebrow is raised. But it all dissolves so I figure it must not be that much. When I reach the point that the sugar no longer dissolves. Then I will worry.

Uh. Yeah. Anyway.

So I am drinking my coffee-sugar mixture or sugar-coffee mixture if you prefer. As it is early in the morning. And when I say early in the morning. I really mean late at night. For I have not yet slept and I do not define a day as officially complete until I have slept.

So I am sitting. And I know my alarm clock will be chiming in but a few hours. Yet I sit. Drinking coffee with my friend. The Piscean Musician. He is yawning. And quiet.

And for a moment I sit in silence with him. It is a comfortable silence. Sometimes silence is not comfortable. But I enjoy silent moments with this particular friend. Although I would say they are rare as we both have so much to say. So I really want to enjoy my sugary coffee and this silence. But I cannot do this because I am compelled.

I am compelled because I know that my very talented friend is not aware of the extent of his talent. And I cannot merely sit here. Drinking coffee and sugar in silence. Not until he knows.

And as I am writing these words. I cannot help but wonder. If telling the world that my friend does not know the extent of his talent will in some way embarrass him. I do not think that I am outing him in some bizarre fashion. This does not seem to be some mysterious discovery that only I have made. I believe this is a well known fact. And therefore. I do not feel guilty about said post. However. I am willing to be corrected. If need be. Until then. Please allow me to continue.

So I am attempting to explain the fact that I believe he has something wonderful and unique to offer the world. And perhaps he believes me. I am not quite sure. Maybe he thinks I am merely being kind. Perhaps he believes that I am merely trying to get into his pants. He is a musician after all. And isn't that what women do.

It is entirely possible that he knows that I am in fact sincere. And serious as a heart attack. Which might be right around the corner if I continue to drink this coffee sugar concoction.

My friend is a humble man. In in between sips of sweetness I think I see a glimmer of understanding in his left eye. And then I realize that it is just the far too bright grungy hipster pseduo-diner lighting bouncing off of his teaspoon. Neatly placed on top of his napkin. So I continue. I wax and wane. Wane and wax. Sometimes I over talk such things thinking that if I merely continue I will find the perfect words. And a flickering of light will occur. Then everything will be illuminated. And then. I realize something.

I realize that. Everything that I am saying to my friend. Every ounce of wisdom that I am imparting. Each syllable that I utter is filled with information that is not only meant for him. But also for me. Through my words to him. I am giving myself. The advice I so desperately need.

Funny how that happens.

The Piscean Musician was my most willing subject in the first photography shoot of my current project. And I have been stumbling through this project. Recently I understood. I understood everything.

So I tell him that I was in the darkroom. Printing away. I was working on printing a few photographs I took of him in his bathtub. And I was pleased. Tickled in fact. And then I realized. I began to develop a sense as to where this project is going. I thought I knew. Actually. I knew that I didn't know. I had no idea where the idea came from as it was nothing like anything I had ever attempted. So I dove in. I did not try to examine the origins of the idea. I dove in. Confused. And unsure. I dove in and began to realize. It wasn't really what I thought at all. It is becoming less and less about bathtubs. And more and more about identity.

And I now know that I want to push the ways in which we view identity. I have always been obsessed with this notion. And now I am examining identity in an entirely different way. I realize that my tongue-in-cheek project is merely the beginning. And now I understand that it had to begin here. In order to get there. And I am hoping to get there soon. But I have more work to do here first. And I know this.

I am stirring the sugar in. And I know that I do not need any more coffee. Sleep will not come easy tonight. In this moment. I see that I need to begin to view things in a different way. Maybe. Perhaps I am too hard on myself. And perhaps we all are too hard on ourselves. Well. Some of us.

So. We are driving. Over the Fremont Bridge. And he asks me if I am a perfectionist.

Yes. I am.

Me too.

And in this moment I understand. I am not alone in this space. This place of self doubt. Even one of the most talented individuals I know is in this place. At least sometimes. And I wonder if we continue. If we all began to share such things with each other. Sharing our insecurities and doubt. Speaking openly about our fear. Communicating all of these things. With each other. Around the world. I wonder if perhaps we might be able to turn everything inside out. So that we are all on the other side of all things that hold us back. Leaving it all behind.