my friend just had a Kid!

Traveling takes its toll on friendships…Maybe not yours, but definitely mine. LB asked me today if my friends are from college or high school and blah I have friends linked to different time periods in my life, friends who were once close to my heart and still are, but are somehow disconnected from each other.

My earliest friends still remain in their respective places. There were four of us. One’s in South Australamerica or somewhere, working the hostel scene. Another is in Palo Alto, married, looking to move to Israel (???) and electrical engineering. I’m in SF at the moment learning how to write commercials and ads you’ll hopefully not hate. The 4th is in LA.

And his wife just gave birth to their first daughter.

She looks like him and has fat rolls on her arm. 8 pounds. The weight is important, a sign of health and good fortune. Fersht slept 3 hours over the past two days – his wife Aviva even less.My brother calls me with the news.

He sounds sedated, exhausted.

“everyone’s been calling me, sending me texts. Shit. Why can’t you just wait till we come on Monday and then you can see her. It’s all crazy and shit”  He’s protective, already. My friend. The Aba. I love it.

I have questions. A million questions.

“So? What was it like?” I ask. “What’d you feel?”

He’s too tired for words. I’m embarassed, giddy. I tell him it’s as if we had a child. Me and him, we just gave birth to something. During this conversation.

“That’d be one hairy ass kid,” he says back.

I miss home. I miss LA and Shabbat and Friday nights singing songs and playing tennis with my dad, music with my brothers, and getting sushi and coffee with my mom, talking walks around the block. I hype it up, though I know I will miss my apt in San francisco when I’m home for break. But who cares. These days, I am lonely, seeking love and something bigger to hold onto – my life is school school school work work work and I’m missing the city, missing people, missing you, missing me, just missing.

Miracles do happen. Pain and lonliness is temporary, as is all suffering. I’m happy. I’m happy that this girl’s entry into this world did the trick.  So keep smiling.


when the penguins fly

where do we go from here?

so much of life is spent moving, thinking, planning > landing in a place and striking a major off the to-do list is fulfilling, but why does being in san francisco fill me with a sad, hard to grasp sense of emptiness? life in the urban world has its perks, sure: mass transit, culture exploding all around me, better food, nicer people, PEOPLE, art shows, garage sales, streetrats who moved from rhode island to experience hippie culture at its most authentic. but when forced to rub shoulders with everyone, ive discovered that my shoulders grew tough. with so many things bubbling around in this urban cytoplasm, i find myself retreating into my own. my friend from school says its a consequence of such close quarter living. in a city with no walls you build the walls around yourself. then again, i did meet my neighbors last night, a genuine Bay Area meetup — with typical Bay Area forms of recreation — Ryan is a photographer, a go-getter, a doer, his girlfriend a graphic designer. Abstract works with an emphasis on type.

am i still a writer? i’m working hard to not to censor myself, but fuck, that’s what ad school does. my work is getting seen by who, 5 people? And only one of them has any powers of scrutiny. I’m a poet, a journalist, a writer, a thinker — and suddenly I’m promoting national geographic adventure magazines. writing copy hasnt fully clicked yet, but shit.  i’ve been designing tons, going crazy for layouts and grids — where has my pen gone? Here’s a new one I did tonight at Kevin and Ashleys and Gianna’s. thanks for the chicken nuggets!

what i’ve come to realize, back to the bay, is that even though I’m a self-professed LA hater, Hollywood has creased my heart and my head to the core, and its taking considerable effort to erode those lines and draw some new ones in the sand. people here…they have shit figured out. down South, the weather, the scene, the movie, the image -> the LA junkie is more malleable, their identities more able to switch in and out and transform into something if opportunity is ready to be mined. and in LA, the gold mines are everywhere. but here, image doen’t mean much. if youre running on empty,  appearing to be full yet full of empty ideas and empty words, its easier to spot than a converted Black Jew in Crown Heights. (I’ve seen those, and everyone keeps staring)  Sustainability goes beyond organic cotton baby blankets – its the real deal. lasting relationships, commitment, causes, ideals. it means something here. so its tough. and tough for me, personally. to discover only months ago that its time to believe in something, to set concrete goals and move towards them, and live in a city where that’s the undisclosed norm…ahhh, aaahve got a lot of thinking to do.

and school people ask about school. what its like. what i’m doing. its the end of the first quarter, so i’m only slightly less clueless about advertising than I was 10 weeks ago. we still need our hands to be held. and that will go on, and on and on, until I get some sort of hang of it. but till then, I’m here, excited to experiment and overfill my ever augmenting quota of fuckups and mistakes. because if youre not failing, if no one else is telling you that youre doing this wrong, then your playing field of success just shrunk considerably. so yes. I had a copy skills class that i fell in love with after the first class, but that enthusiasm dwindled when our teacher got a new job, and that just seriously set back the flow of everything. i won’t blame him. circumstances. but we’re people people. i had a brainstorming class which rocked. the teachers were truly invested, the lessons were organized, stressful, and I owe a few sleepless nights to those bastards. but i loved every minute of it. and design design…i’m tempted to switch over to art direction. but as i write these words, and these words, I know that my heart, and my power, lies in tongue.  all in all, its been a windy experience, good and bad, but growing pains was not only a hit sitcom starring kirk cameron, but a happy reminder that life is not living if its always easy.

and back to basics. i’m home now. the above was written in the miami ad school dungeon. its time to make some choices. who am I? and where do I go from here?