Cousin Joan Saffa
Caught up with cousin Joan today over a heaping plate of Spanish food. Mmmmm... gespacho and tapas in the Mission district at restaurant Esperanto. Then onto Golden Gate Park for a long overdue confab. A brisk walk on a chilled overcast day. Joan's presence is now well established on this Net site. Nepotism? Sure. Does she make fine copy? You bet. She makes even better company.
Somewhere between the Sutro waterfall and the Siamese pagoda we began investigating our entire lives. At this stage we can finally see our personal dramas from a distance. We're probably somewhere within the second act. We may know 'who done it' but we still don't know what 'he done.' Not just yet. We think it was Colonel Mustard with the candlestick in the parlor. But that's another story. Joan admits she's comfortable with the final realization that she'll never be President. Just as well. She'd have me to some State dinner I'd confuse the finger bowl with thin soup. I've shared some of Joanie's accomplishments here.
Right now I'm on a roll. It stems from my involvement with the Net, which allows me unmitigated expression and little restraint. If I choose, I don't schmooze. See ya Mr. Publisher; bye bye Mr Gallery man. I'll publish myself thank you very much. If I get notices, it's my efforts alone doing the walking.
I indulge my inner self more than ever these days and I'm comfortable with that. Lucky too. I have finessed lots more free time. The trade off? I live temperately. The things I used to toss money at with grand extravagance and vain glory, I do no longer. I'm not married, got no kids, so my time is pretty much my own. Nor do I labor full time advancing the dreams of others. I do work of course, but in shorter bursts. Since I am a restless soul who must produce something, I work daily, sometimes hours on end. I'd go nuts if I didn't. But the joy is they're my own projects. And one of my pet projects is making web pages fun with useless bells and whistles. The subject of one's lifework crystallized later this evening with Orsen Wells sadly reflecting upon the course of his own life. Orson allowed that his personal 'paint box,' making movies, was extremely costly. He flatly admitted he should have pursued a different career instead of chasing cinematic dreams. "I spent only 2 per-cent of my working life actually making movies. The other 98 per-cent of my time I spent... hustling."
Though I'll probably never leave even one film behind, and I'd love to, or become President, I have indeed found satisfaction with this life.
Or, to put it another way, I'm not... H*A*P*P*Y !
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