Cornering the past... Demanding an explanation

My entries have been few and far between lately, due to lack of breakthroughs, interest and energy. Every monring I wake at 6AM, get cleaned up, eat a little something, wake the kids and feed them. Pack lunches, ponder over whether or not to make coffee or wait until I get to the office, dress my son, wrestle something clean onto my doaughters small frame, and tie them to their seats in my 1990 VW Fox.

I drop them off at pre-school after driving by the dino-musuem near the intersection of Granada and Speedway, and passing the two Cacti wearing T'shirts. I smile at the girl working at the preschool who has this certain way of looking at me. Then I park on 4th Avenue and walk about 3/4 mile to my building, take the elevator up one floor and unlock my office door.

I do this every morning Monday through Friday for the last two months. I spend my time walking, pondering where I left my creativity and drive, where I dropped my passion for contributing to the visual flow of daily life. Why have I stopped arguing with the images battere=ing my eyes and mind? I've given up. Yesterday I told myself... the problem I must conquer is one of emotionl dependancy on feeling "GOOD." Moments later I made a connection to my failure with financial management, when I have money I feel good, when I have money I feel great. But when I go broke, I feel failure.

I can't do this anymore. This game of attack and retreat, this game of defeat. Last night I opened my mail to find a letter from the IRS. FUCK! Here we go again.

On a lighter note, I spent some time talking with Hal Hartley last week, while he visited Tucson. Nice guy, a little quiet, which is discomforting... after seeing his films. Also, it looks like I'm headed back to Ohio in about six months or so. Wife and kids are headed back in two months, where they'll work, school, and look for a house. I still have to find work and sell our house here in Arizona before making the leap back home. Part of me hates to return, while deep within, there is a longing to be back amongst those I grew up with. The artists of my fathers generation, and those of mine. Now that I've worked off some influences and scaled down my ambitions - It's time to get back to work.