Until art poureth out of me it's all about the taxi. I thought I would work on art Saturday after my two hour session with the lady on the mountain, but Martin Luther King has inadvertently reeked havoc on the tourist town I live in. Football games, drinking, music, more drinking....it was a busy time for the cabbie's and I volunteered myself into the mix.
I still get shaky and feel like I'm going to implode/explode simultaneously the first ride or so, but the little local rides up and down the mountain road are becoming less harrowing. There was a time I could not go past a certain point on that mountain road. Night or day, it felt like I would reach a point of no return. Now I feel less trepidation but still pray I don't have to delve off the main road onto the dozens of dark tributaries of dirt roads. It still depends greatly on the type of person(s) I pick up....stuff the vehicle with stoic quiet people who exude aires of superiority and I am predisposed to tics of nervousness. Don't think for a minute that I'm unaware of how this is all therapy for ME. I accept it. It is integration at a base level for someone who has had limited/unhealthy amounts of normal conversation without the aide of alcohol or hiding behind the dark quietness of a massage session. I'm not good at small talk but I'm also not stupid and I know behind every comment on the weather intimations coagulate into wordless meaning towards connection.
Saturday night I had my first experience with overtly inebriated people, I drove some extremely rowdy guys off the beaten path and decided that was enough for one night. Oddly enough I was okay with them screaming FUCK over and over and yelling at the back of my head. We even managed to have a conversation about life (I'm sure only I will remember it though) I could have driven to the bar and waited for more rides, as the bar neared closing they poured out of there like a cloud of insects. I chose instead to park at a recreation path and wait to see if I got any calls that were less aggressive. It was surreal to sit there in the dark after midnight in a taxi....snow falling and wind kicking up. Feeling the energy of all who were out there and yet feeling completely alone and peaceful.
I started to like it. There I said it. Yes once again I get the lesson for the zillionth time. That which I avoid like the plague, that which I fear, that which I do not want....it becomes the giant that closes in on me until I find the worm hole of acceptance to glide out of my prison. I wonder when I will ever learn to stay more in the moment. Right now it is okay. Right now I don't have to do anything. Right now I can do this. It's when I look ahead and let my mind ruminate. Let my thoughts create toxic balloons of their own that then I cannot see. Do I really want to keep driving, being on call for entire days and making $50 or $60? No. But for right now what else is there. This came to me and it is what I have. If I look ahead sure I feel anxious and even sorrow that I'm not swimming in oceans of creative time. But oh well. I find it fitting that this weekend the gallery sold the piece 'escape', the very night I decided to go out there and work with an attitude of gratitude and peace. That I stopped hating myself and feeling inadequate and inferior.