enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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Why is it so difficult for some, sometimes, to enjoy life?

Spent the last few hours planning the trip to San Francisco! Quite exciting, really.

To be honest, if I had my druthers I'd get on a bike right away after getting into SF and ride the 40 (hilly) miles out to Muir Park (at least I think that distance is right) and would hug me some big trees. Then I would ride back later.

I'm actually going to try to convince C. to do some biking around the town. It would be even better if we could bike in wine country. Unfortunately we do not have many days there.

I always go to the off-the-beaten track places wherever possible, so I'm digging a bit on trip advisor. It's quite amusing to hear the takes of different people. I've found though in my various trips to Italy - particularly as I've become more experienced - my judgment has been good in selecting gems of wisdom from this site. It's nice to see how generous people are with their time and knowledge about the places they love!

Incidentally, I think I have found my "room with a view" in Florence as well for my special night or two to celebrate my birthday. I've found a place on the other side of the river and a little bit out of the way. The other option is that very posh and marvellous place with the gardens that I looked at the last time. I might just splash out on that. You just never know.

This morning I was thinking about my dearly departed friend, Roland. I was also thinking about my friend with whom I met yesterday, who is depressed, in conjunction with thoughts of Roland. This friend is sort of an unusual case in the sense that he has a great family and has a great life, all the money he needs, education, looks, health, etc. His issue is that he has boxed himself into a life in which he is pursuing absolutely nothing - personally or professionally - that interests him. He has no passion, no joy. He's let a Ph.D. drag on indefinitely, and that's what he can't let go. I think he should drop out. I think this because what my friend lacks, unfortunately for him, is a work ethic. He's smart, but he thinks that things will happen by magic. I wish I could help him with this. I think, actually, that the secret to him is evidenced by the fact that he is almost forty and yet his last girlfriend was twenty-five (and this is the most aged girl he has ever dated...you do the math). Show me a man who won't date women his own age...and I'll show you a man who doesn't have much confidence in himself at the root. Everyone has his or her issues; it's difficult to get on track (don't I know it). And then again, there's the chicken and the egg issue. I know with me that it was family patterns and learned behaviours that precipitated my pain. I wonder what it was for him? Most of all what I tried to tell him last night is that whatever happens with the Ph.D., none of his value as a human being has anything to do with it. None whatsoever.

When I think about Roland, I wonder if he was ever depressed. I only knew him at the end of his life. He lived in a small, shabby space (one room plus kitchen, so that he could do some travel). He was divorced. He'd been very poor during the war as a boy. He'd never had much money through his life. He'd re-educated himself when he had moved to Canada, so that he could work as a teacher as well as a musician to support a wife and five children. He suffered with gout last year. He missed France. Yet, his apartment was an oasis of interest, it seemed. He was sometimes lonely and welcomed my company. On the other hand, he was always doing something - learning Spanish, reading erotic poetry, playing chess online with invisible opponents, planning his trip to St. Petersberg, strolling out with his "girlfriend," cutting off other cars en route to the National Art Centre, drinking free wine at film institute meetings and attempting to pick up cute ladies at the same time... He even went to some aerial park in Vancouver that I suggested when he went there last summer, to walk high amongst the trees. (His son works for an airline and sometimes got him cheap tickets.)

I found a card from him thanking me for my Vancouver tips, and I photographed a bunch of his cards this morning. The funniest one is the one in which he apologizes for hitting on me when I first was getting to know him. ;-) Note the nude muse of the orcehstra (a print of one of about fifty such paintings that he did in the last few years). A couple of little sketches that he did for my birthday are also on the wall.

What gives one person a capacity to make lemonade from lemons and what robs others of that precious capacity? Different answers for each, I am sure. What a gift it is to be able to hang on and find joy in spite of the negative. What a precious gift.

2:30 p.m. - 2009-03-29

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