Art and Heart Inside

 Far out!

Where are the olden-days, hippie photos of Constance? That’s what you wondered as you read my last post and gazed at all those commune folk, right?

Well, here they are.

If you look closely you can see Jimi Hendrix and Noel Redding on the wall behind me. I look somewhat disheveled because I was (still am) phobic when it comes to having my photo taken. I had probably been trying to hide my face and was finally persuaded to stop being silly and just be.

At this point I would like to pull back on the biographical reins. I started this series of posts after reading this blog entry on peaches and plums. The author speaks of breaking down communication barriers. I meant to leave a comment. To say, yes! I too crave intense one on one exchange and real no bullshit communication. I curbed that impulse. Why should I mess up someone else’s beautiful blog space with my unfocused thoughts.

Here I am, miles away from my original intention, carried away on a tidal wave of memory and self-absorbtion, when all wanted to say was that I, too, have long struggled to be out front and share my feelings with others. I have often hidden behind words.

In her blog J said: “. . . at times i feel like talking to you is this sort of balancing act. if i push too hard, it all might crumble. and it’s a connection i don’t want to lose.”

I can so relate to that. I think I was good and shocked the first time someone told me I was intense. I feel things very intensely, that is true, and  I want things to be out-front and straightforward but I understand that some, maybe most, people are freaked out by my potentially boisterous, passionate, childlike enthusiasm. 

Still, I am drawn to people who are passionate and I continue to expect that everyone has a madly passionate core.

It’s why I love music and musicians, at least the passionate ones. I’m an admitted Jeff Buckley freak. I loved his father Tim Buckley’s music too. Some people have a tough time listening to either of them. Too intense.

When I love you, I really, really love you.

Sometimes they call it obsession but my respect for other people’s psychic space trumps my curiosity and desire to know someone on that deep level. It’s my need for intense connection combined with a distaste for the unexpected complications of emotion that keep me from becoming engaged with too many humans at once.

Still, I believe deep down that being honest and freely self-expressive, affectionate and appreciative of one another is an admirable goal. It is definitely an Art.

Sometimes I try to sneak in little secret gifts. I give them to people I don’t know very well. They are my way of saying, without saying face to face, “Hey there, I think you are really cool!”

Some people get it, some find it weird. It is a sort of closeted move on my part.

I wish I could stroll up  to you and say, “Howdy! You just seem to be a very smart, funny, interesting person! I like you.” 

Hopefully I communicate it somehow, some way before you walk out the door forever.

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