BLOG:REKNOWING
Separation Anxiety
Wherein we read about the fate of the best laid plans of a man…
Alright, let’s get back to it, shall we? I’ve been suffering from a bit of writer’s block. When I last left you, it was September 2009. I had moved out of my house, separating from my wife of fourteen years. It was done without any planning at all and yet it was the right thing. Sometimes it takes the passage of time to see things this clearly, however.
Into the Abyss
2007 wasn’t all bad. It was that year that Karen, a dear friend, suggested I begin charging for my photography. Since before my kids were born I was fascinated with photography. Both my grandfathers were enthusiasts, but it was actually the late 80’s wave of black & white posters by Ansel Adams, Henry Cartier Bresson and others that really lit a match for me. Interestingly, in retrospect, it is clear to me that the camera was an ideal device to allow me to participate in life but also to keep me hidden so I didn’t have to fully engage, especially with my family of origin.
On Therapy… Part V
The Lab gets moved. Cracks are appearing in many places. Fitness addiction to the rescue!
When we last left things, I was cruising along at 35,000 feet, metaphorically speaking, and I lost an engine. This happened in the form of a profound realization, around 2005-06, that no matter what I did, no matter how much money I made, how many gorgeous kids I had, how perfect of a house I lived in, my father wasn’t going to love me. Or, more accurately, was highly unlikely to express any love he did have for me in a way I could recognize and appreciate.
On Therapy… Part Quattro
The Days Are Long, the Years Are Short
In the last episode, we had just given birth to our second (of two) daughters, Adeline. To be perfectly honest, this time period is one of the fuzziest parts of my memory. Things with my parents were fairly tense, although we remained in contact. I was on at least 150mg of Zoloft for some period of time. My emotions were dull, I was putting on weight….
On Therapy… Part Deux
This is the second in what is a series of posts on this topic. The first post is here. Hang with me as I get through all this background info. It gets more interesting, I promise!
My first less-than-productive therapy session left a really bad taste in my mouth. It was a shame because, man, I could have used some assistance. The next several years were an absolute whirlwind (as if the first 25 hadn’t been). Less than six months after being named one of the youngest Product Managers ever in the Digital & Applied Imaging division of Kodak, I accepted an offer to move to New York City to work for a gray market film & paper dealer in Brooklyn who (unlike Kodak) saw the writing on the wall and wanted to move into digital. He put his money where his mouth was, pushing my salary (just) into six figures….
On Therapy… Part 1
This is the first in what will be a series of posts on this exciting topic. Buckle up.
I was born in Madison, Wisconsin in 1969. I lived in 11 cities before I turned 16, which may actually be more than the typical Army brat. This translates to three elementary schools, two middle schools and three high schools. My parents were barely 22 years old when I was born after having been conceived out of wedlock while they were in college. Their fathers were both WWII veterans who spent their entire careers as carpenters. My maternal grandfather was a Marine who saw hand-to-hand combat with the Japanese in the South Pacific. He was home in Wisconsin on leave after jumping off the boat in an overcrowded San Francisco harbor when the United States dropped the atomic bombs and the war ended. He proposed to his girlfriend, they got married and he rarely spoke of the war for the next fifty plus years.
BLOG CATEGORIES & TAGS:
STAY IN THE KNOW: NEVER MISS AN UPDATE
SUBSCRIBE TO MY BLOG
To be notified when a new post hits the site, fill subscribe to my blog.
I promise never ever ever to sell or give away your information.