I just started my timer. 3 hours. That's what I have to work with right now. I lit a candle — the one I bought as a joke at the grocery store last year or maybe the year before. It's one of those candles you see on the side of the road 'in memoriam' for a crash...a sad sight. Mine has La Santisima Muerte depicted on the front. Sickle, skeleton, holding a skull, robes draped everywhere. Not sure why I thought it was funny. Now it finally starts its burn as I chase something other than death. As I chase life.
I need to change. Everyone does. I need to the most. That's how my brain works. I've been fighting it, but let's not for a bit. Let's do the opposite. Let's work with the brain...see what we can uncover. I am having my George Costanza moment. I am doing the opposite of what I normally do. I am working on one screen. I am doing before thinking. I am writing as I go. I am uncaring. I am DO, not THINK. I am unbothered by outcome. I am excited.
3 hours is about the best way to chunk my life out right now. It's 180 minutes. 180 degrees. 18 = chai = life = luck. 9:30–12:30. 2–5. 7:30–10:30. Repeat. I have a goal.
Wearing: black tank top I stole from my father-in-law, black jorts cut from an old pair of Levis I found next to the Little Library near the garden lot where the old church used to live, my new hair that makes me feel a little like a UK punk rocker but I am definitely not, my trusty Garmin with the mismatched band from the Suunto that died in the Army, a sterling cuff from Hannah, the Target flip flops Hannah got for me after I stole hers that were too small. A determined face. A slight hunch. Some deodorant. A slight sunburn from yesterday.
Three months ago I quit my job, I quit lying to myself, and I quit booze. A little over a week ago I finished a long partial hospitalization and intensive outpatient treatment program for Mental Health and Substance Use. It was life affirming. It was hard. I cried. It was the best thing I did. I hope to never do it again.
I just put on a mix by this guy I just discovered: Tom VR. Pure vibes. Not much in the way of vocals. Waves and punches and ethereal cymbals — ghosts who come in and melt away. Hannah hates it. Most of my friends don't jibe with it. It's the best to me — deep down this dark but warm feeling rabbit hole.
I am programming a site in which my portfolio will live. I will do it in 180 minutes less whatever it took to write this. 12 minutes down. I will spend no more than $18. 180. One.Eight.Zero. A pivot and turn. A new direction. Back? Down? Returning? Who cares, let's go.
Got antsy and started today's 180 before putting pen to paper with my intention. On this hot June day — going to hit 88 degrees in the next hour — we are live recording a DJ set.
I took the Blue Line El from Logan Square to Racine. Had an appointment. Didn't want to drive because WHY. Didn't want to bike because SWEATY FOR DOCTOR. So train it was. I listened to new music on the way. And dang if I didn't find a crateful of goodies — they seemed to fit together well already. Made the ride, hell even the wait for the train home, feel nice. Blue Line Grooves.
This is a mix to take you from place to place on the elevated train. Something you can let your eyes relax to. Something that conjures memories of summers past when things were simple, greens were greener, and $5 went real real far at the corner store. We miss those times. But we can make some nice time now — together, on the El, enjoying the sun, letting our minds wander to places new and old, near and far, good bad and ugly.
Maybe I'll make QR codes to print and sticker around the Logan Square stop. "Hungry? Listen to this." Or just "DAMNNNNNNNNNN." Official Blue Line Groove, done up on official-looking paperwork. Add a graffiti tag? Who knows. Not me.
It was deep, it was soulful, it was techno, it was disco. A kaleidoscope. Truly underground — an essential mix in the clouds where we could dance and sing out loud.
0:33:53 — I forgot how long this takes. Nailed down 6 tracks and their flow. Want 4–6 more to round out 30ish minutes. Rekordbox is throwing a fit when I try to cue up anything from Spotify. Might troubleshoot later. Either way — waiting it out.
Lesson: good things take time. Good things are hard. Not all hours are created equally on God's green earth.