The Culture that has been here all the time

Good morning, I slept well with over an hour of REM sleep because it turned cold overnight.  A week into spring, and I missed the start, but the flowers were not taken by surprise; they bloom around the neighborhood. Last night, winter clawed at my house and chilled it nicely. I have managed to pay the enormous winter heating bills, and since my late wife isn't here, I have little reason to keep the temperature as high as I used to.

Every day holds a promise or a surprise. I am counting on a positive in my life to manifest itself. There isn't a single reason other than a feeling. Maybe I am being too optimistic. I know that romantic visions of Europe persisted during the three years I lived in a village, which heightened my desire to recapture that romance. Alas, I no longer have the financial means to become an expat. Maybe if I win the lottery.

I look in the mirror and wonder if anyone could like that guy. I don't look as old as I am, and I am still self-reliant. My finances have recovered, and I use some of my time with music and art. Still thinking about how much garden I want this year. Still trying to motivate myself to put away and deal with clutter and remnants of the past that are not sentimental. 

I still miss having breakfast with a companion, but I wonder who would want a used car like me anyway. I really liked the Shortwave Radio in my old Simca because I listened to BBC news each evening at 18:00 local NJ time (LOL). (Pixabay photo)

Researchers and my doctors concur that I may be the last living Neanderthal. Why?

I endure the cold climates well, I have an urge to draw on walls, and I tend to be depressed. I found it hard to stop drinking alcoholic beverages, give up my hyena, badger, and wolverene pets, and most of all, prefer human females to neanderthal females.

Dear and lovely companion, wherever you are, Good morning. Your smile would brighten a rainy morning if you were here. I am about to make coffee and breakfast. Is there anything special you want? Though the sky is grey and the street wet, crocuses and daffodils are blooming. The Forsythia's yellow buds are more obvious this morning. Maybe this is the day we shall meet. (all pixabay)

It has been a long while since I wrote about something scientific or mathematical on my blog. The recent "Scientists finally figured out the math behind how you see color."  see Scientists finally figured out the math behind how you see color:

The amazing thing is that the enhanced "Tetrachromacy is a rare condition where individuals possess four types of cone cells in their eyes instead of the usual three, allowing them to perceive roughly 100 times more colors—up to 100 million hues—and distinguish subtle shades others cannot. Primarily affecting women, this condition allows for enhanced sensitivity, particularly in the yellow-red spectrum". Look up Tetrachromacy.

What motivates me? Others, especially close friends. Now alone for the first time in almost fifty years, I am not moved to keep my house up to snuff. Never really been sloppy inside my home or yard (attic, garage, or basement maybe), but without a companion and no visits from anyone, I don't care. Another factor, when I bought this house about four years ago, it seemed to fit. Now that I am a widower for the first time, it is unimportant and lacks space for office and hobbies. Like René Magritte, I paint in the dining room. 

Reigniting my music and art is beginning to add clutter with associated stuff. Soon, new paintings will be scattered about.

I care more about my dog and cat now, too. My cat is a fusspot. He seems to ignore the cat fountain I bought for him and keeps to the old water bowl.

Yes, I am reaching out in search of a companion, but so far, there is no reason to be optimistic. (pixabay)

Ultra Reality has engulfed me. When my wife was diagnosed with dementia, the first four years, we still could take a ride, a walk, shop, and have lunch together, even as her cognitive issues grew. By year five, that was down to rides to the doctor and fast food pick up to bring home, then by year seven I could only manage some of my doctor's appointments by hiring an aide to watch over her, and in the last three months, I relied on Hospice's help (so grateful to them).

I occasionally attempted to seek a companion, and the scammers destroyed my finances. Today, I am well on the way to financial recovery.

The rollercoaster of mourning is rough, though learning about the long goodbye helped a great deal. I live with my dog and cat, watch TV, play some guitar, sing for myself, and have begun working on some art. I have a hard time falling asleep even with melatonin, and I do have dreams, some of them not nightmares but unpleasant nevertheless. Last night I was startled to see an apparition.

I woke at about 2 am to my cat nudging me, and I saw a vivid image of my wife holding stuffed animals standing by my bedside. Ambivalent because I felt love and fear, I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, she was gone.

I have been cut off from dating for forty-one years, but last night I decided I need to resume my quest for a companion. What did I do? I opened an account with eHarmony, feeling both awkward and hopeful. 

I have many positive things to share with a woman, and maybe the potential woman will have many positive things to share with me. I am not sure how to proceed, living in a town where I am still a stranger, with no friends and limited contact with family. I feel I have no choice. Yes, it costs money, and the first contact was without a doubt a scammer. I had her blocked. And, unsure of my dating abilities.

Here are two songs for my mistress, 1973 -1979, oh how much I loved her, and I know the love still lives in me after all this time (so true). My memories explode when I play and sing them again.

Working on a new song and a new painting after an eight-year hiatus, what surprises me? Like swimming or riding a bicycle, it's all coming back to me. The creative process is intimate and personal. I have the creative impulse to work out a starting point, begin refining, and adjust the work according to my inspiration. Sometimes I apply technical steps. I can revise the structure and harmony of a song and work with the painting palette of a favorite artist.

The whole process gives me an intrinsic reward. I have a mantra: "I am neither the best nor the worst artist." This pronouncement has nothing to do with my works, only my implicit sense of accomplishment. That is what it is all about after all.

Quality sex when we were 18 and later in life (like me) is not the same. Anyone who thinks otherwise, let me know.

In the beginning, in the era of free love (every generation had a time like that), connecting to a lover was easy. So many people suggested males were in a hurry and intent on self-satisfaction. I encountered young women who were exactly the same. The next step was what I call the unquenchable phase: Young men AND YOUNG WOMEN seemed to have an insatiable appetite for sex.

Somewhere along the line, as a mistress I had for seven years, I had expressed "quality, not quantity, is what I want." I created a bumper sticker that reads "Good Sex Isn't Just for the Young."

The storms in life disrupt every good thing for most people; they seem unavoidable. There is always a workaround if you keep an open mind. I gave up, tried and failed, and passed through a storm. Now I am willing to try once more. In my mind, I am younger than I look. Let's go with that.

I just reawakened. I didn't survive three marriages, several jobs, and failed businesses. I gained strength, knowledge, and self-control. I removed the cloak I was willing to keep wrapped around me to honor the commitment to my late wife because I was with her until her last moment. I now see that that is a definition of one of my successes in life, and I am glad that I have made it so and become this strong. It is time to exert my power and grasp life with a new fervor.

I resumed guitar playing and singing, and even wrote two new songs. Now to work on them for publication, as I had before I willingly became a caregiver. I still collect royalties and hold a publishing license. I write, arrange, produce, and master using my abilities and skills.

I dusted off some of my artist materials and supplies (even bought a couple of things I needed). Sketched a charcoal face of my late wife, plan an oil color project of tiny wild flowers, and intend to draw and paint nudes now that I can without complication.

This past week, I overcame the loss of money because I made the mistake and let nefarious and devious people take advantage of me(thinking they were women, but they may actually have been men masquerading). 

My childhood should have warned me, as I ran away from home at 15 and became streetwise in New York City. Still finishing High School, tech school, and even most of College with honors. I even enlisted and served with honors in the US Army. I managed stores, led music groups, and supervised a technical staff at a university media center. Survived a failed heart without a transplant, and at 78, ready to start everything all over again.

I am not bragging I am voicing a commitment to rise from the ashes once more like a Phoenix. (pixabay images) (Yes I am a Leo)