Life is Short…Be Happy

I just had the most amazing dream…long story short…me and a bunch of people were doing a strange exercise to breathe in as deep as possible and as we exhaled, we had to say something really profound to the partner sitting across from us. All the characters in the dream were from a show I’ve been watching called Magicians.

Anyway…

As everone was going around taking their turn, I was concerned that I wouldn’t have anything to say or anything that mattered. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to take a big enough breath and that somehow I would fail the exercise. Each of the sayings were very profound or at least I felt like they were at the time during the dream.

The last pair was up and I remember feeling my partner next to me or sort of behind me. I couldn’t see who it was. I watched with deep intent as the last pair spoke, it was profound. I wish I could remember what she said. I was still worried that I wouldn’t be good enough. It was my turn. I didn’t know what I was going to say as I inhaled deeply. As I started to let out my breath, I felt my partner’s hand on my shoulder. It wasn’t a person. It felt like God. As I opened my mouth I felt the words come from God through me and the words were… “Life is short, be happy.”

Then I woke up. I was not only compelled to write this down but as I wrote it in one of my many sketchbooks, something said to write it for the world. I started to write a post in Facebook but within the first paragraph I felt I had to write it in my online journal. I argued with myself for a moment because it has been so long since I wrote anything there that I might not remember my password. Then a calm washed over me and I opened a notepad on my laptop. I am writing as I go. I will figure out the password issue when I get there.

Well, I’m here. I made it through the password protected environment and into my online journal. I don’t know if any of this is very profound. I see this saying on bumper stickers and T-shirts all the time so it’s certainly isn’t new. But maybe someone else needs to read this. This is my bumper sticker.

If nothing else, listening to my dream and my compulsion to write it down brought me here. It also took me to one of my sketch books to start and I saw a few doodles and some other notes on dreams that gave me some ideas for a painting.

Listen to your dreams. They are telling you something. Even if you don’t think it is important. Follow…Your dreams will guide you. And most importantly…remember. Life is Short…Be Happy.

Horse Triptych

My artist ego is Ajai, my alter ego that explores my art and craving for the outdoors and life lessons is Bohemian Tiger. Maybe hiding behind the alternate egos is a way to protect myself from the world I so desperately want to be a part of but want to be able to hide from at the same time.

Putting myself out there on YouTube has really been a challenge. Facing the camera and letting the world in on a little piece of who I am is easier when you don’t see my face…my identity…my true essence. I’ve been pretty transparent about my life here and have poured my heart and soul into some of my posts but there is something very unveiling about putting your face on YouTube that is hard to describe.

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Maybe it takes away the fantasy of who I am? When you read my posts, you can put any face to the comments and dream of what “that” person is or looks like. But when you have a face to look at, it changes the perception and concept of who that person really is. I know I am sometimes shocked when I meet or see a picture of someone I have admired through the arts or heard of through acquaintances. It can totally change your vision of that person. Sometimes for the better and sometimes…well let’s just say I was raised to say nothing at all.

When I paint, I don’t feel like “me” I feel connected to something that is way beyond this world. The “me” that holds the brush is just a conduit for something, some kind of energy that manifests in a place between “here” and “there” and doesn’t have a time or location.

Meditation…connection…peace…

Painting Horses Episode 2

Now that winter has hit pretty hard, I will be doing more painting than building at the off-grid cabin/cottage. It’s pretty tough getting up the off-road trail to the property so I find other ways to spend my time. My favorite of all pastimes is painting. I consider each of my works a meditation. I can lose time and find peace when I paint.

Like and subscribe to my YouTube channel for updates.
https://www.youtube.com/ajaiart/bohemiantiger

This is one of my favorites so far.

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Industrial Oasis

Living and working in a very industrial area can be taxing on my need for nature. I spend my lunch hour looking for any glimpse of nature I can find just to keep my sanity. One day, driving down a new road, I found a a little piece of sanity in a noisy, congested, stinky, industrial chaos. The oasis is only a few blocks in either direction, but there are trees and geese and water and sunlight. It makes lunchtime a bit more natural than sitting in the Burger King parking lot.

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Like and subscribe to my YouTube channel for updates.
https://www.youtube.com/ajaiart/bohemiantiger

TMBR Bathroom Tile Episode 1

Working on the cabin/cottage one paycheck at a time and one weekend and sometimes one day at a time. I wish I could just work every day on the cabin…the only problem with that is then I wouldn’t have any way to pay for the supplies. Dang job thing is a reality…gotta have a job to have the funds to build. Gotta have time to build…this is going to be a fun dance between time and money. It seems like I often don’t have enough of either.

It takes 3 hours to drive up and another 3 to drive back so sometimes it’s just a few hours there and I do what I can. Some weekends I start at 7am and work until the sun goes down…then it’s my energy that gets in the way because the next morning I can barely move.

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Even if I have to do this one hour at a time and it takes me a decade to finish…I’m going to keep going. I have a vision of what I want this to be…how I want to spend time there…how I want to be there…it will get done at some point. I think the end result isn’t the only thing I’m looking forward to though. I think the process itself is part of the romance of this endeavor. Watching myself figure it out gives me hope that someday I will figure out life too…lol…maybe that is a bit much to ask?

Like and subscribe to my youtube channel for updates. https://www.youtube.com/ajaiart/bohemiantiger
I post videos there more often than I post updates here. But I do try to add highlights here.

Off-Gridness

The best part of building a cottage in the middle of nowhere is the the off-gridness of it. Like the old TV show Gilligan’s Island…”No phones, no lights, no motorcars, not a single luxury, like Robinson Caruso, it’s primitive as can be…”

I can actually feel the difference in my mind and body when I am out of RF range. It’s almost like the constant hum of radio frequency adds a weight to your head and heart that is overwhelmingly present when you realize what it feels like to be away from it.

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Cabin Insulation at TMBR

I’ve really started taking advantage of the YouTube channel I started a while ago. If you want to spend some time there, please like and subscribe. I’m hoping to some day get enough views and subscribers to monetize the channel so I can make some extra cash for supplies for the cabin. Here’s the link to the channel.
https://www.youtube.com/user/ajaiart/bohemiantiger

Some of the videos are about TMBR and the trials and tribulations of building on a budget. Some of the videos include my art and the process for creating. I hope that somewhere along my journey, I can help someone else that is facing some of the struggles we all have to work through as being human. Even if that is just learning how to laugh at yourself.

I am going to do as much of the work as I can to get this cabin/cottage done myself. I did outsource the foundation, framing and septic. It may take a few years to get it all done. I’m doing the work myself and by myself so every project is lesson in process and coming to terms with the fact that I don’t have a clue what I’m doing…lol

That being said, I don’t expect anyone to think my videos are a real “how to” but more of an expression in process and perfection aren’t really the answer. The answer is just keep trying.

This is a peek at the cabin insulation…Love and hugs!

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Off Road Rattle Can

I had the pleasure of meeting a young artist/teacher not too long ago. Taylor Berman is funny, intelligent and an inspiration in going after your dreams. I put together this little video of an evening spent laughing, talking and watching him paint an old Ford that was truly (Found On Road Dead) but brought back to life by a neighbor’s mechanical skills and Taylor’s paint.

Thanks for letting me live in your world if only briefly.

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How do you measure progress

How do you measure progress?

Is it how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? Maybe it’s how far you can jump or run? Do you measure against something or someone else?

I’ve always tried really hard to only measure myself against my previous self. I’m finding that a bit hard these days. It’s great in theory to say “I’m better today than I was yesterday” but when you see the world around you moving at such a fast pace and catch your reflection in a passing mirror and and not like what you see or second guess the the clothing choice you made that morning, it’s time to stop! Get off the pitty-pot and rediscover your sense of self.

Yeah…I know…who the hell am I to be telling anyone how to be? I’m not really telling you how to be…I’m just reaffirming for myself in a public forum how I want to be. Or, to some degree, how I don’t want to be…

I think I’ve been kinda whiny lately. Griping about things out of my control or complaining about things I normally wouldn’t. I wasn’t sure why or what was going on until I read one of my own Facebook posts.

It suddenly dawned on me…I’ve been hanging around my ex more than usual. We’ve been friends since the breakup, but I’ve been pretty good about keeping my distance and so has he, but then, he bought a piece of property very close to my (TMBR) and I joked that he would never spend any time there because he is NOT an outdoorsy person. He’s a loud video game/Netflix kinda guy…he likes crisp ironed shirts and shiny things…not dirt and silence.

But recently he decided to check out his property by coming to mine. I guess I was intrigued by his sudden interest in being in the sun and we went for a drive to see the sites around his new chunk of dirt with an old cabin (maybe early 1900’s old).   I knew it wasn’t all it appeared when we were done driving around and he spent most of the time “out there” in his car smoking and listening to the radio.

But for a moment, I thought that maybe it would be nice to have someone around that could help me with the cabin at TMBR…maybe even someone to spend time with there…It was a short lesson in reality! We were together for 14+ years when I decided to end the relationship. I had many reasons, one of which was I never got much help…why did I think it would be different now?

He came out again the next week and said he would help me work on the bathroom. He sat in his car…he sat on a chair in the cabin and played with his phone while I worked. He did hand me a tool a couple of times but acted as if I was interrupting him when I asked from atop the ladder. When I took a break, he told me all about the help he needed on his new property down the road. He said he needed me to show him where it was because he didn’t remember the turn…

I showed him the way and he asked me if I could help him get the door open. It was latched with an old flip latch and needed to be removed with a screwdriver. He said he was going to look in his car for a tool. I brought my tools and by the time I had his door open and the latch swapped out for a new one and the bushes cut away from the door so you could even get to it, he had his lawn lounger unpacked from his car and was ready to sit down again. He never did find that screwdriver he was looking for… It got really clear what his true intentions were.

I know on a few occasions, before it became clear why he was there, I felt like I was questioning my sanity for allowing myself to be vulnerable. Especially after all we went through. We’ve hung out a few times over the last 3 years since we separated and each time I had that undeniable feeling that I was right for breaking up with him. I’m almost hyper aware of how under-valued I was in the relationship and even with the obvious attempts that he has made to “be nice to me” it is very clear that the only importance I have in his eyes is that I can do stuff he can’t or won’t and I have been willing in the past to put him before me to my own detriment and debt. I am no more important now than I was when we were together.

Why is he still trying to be close to me if he doesn’t really value or care? Because he wants something! I’ve found that in most abusive or negative relationships, it’s not about love, admiration and respect…it’s about “what can I take from you” and “how far will you let me take it?” It really is more about power and control than love or intimacy.

So this all takes me back to the whole whiny, complaining wah, wah stuff I mentioned earlier. I was feeling sorry for myself for not being valued by someone that I knew didn’t value me. Go figure! This isn’t just my problem…I see it all the time in both women and men…people seeking approval from outside of themselves wondering why they are miserable. I can’t speak for the world…only myself…

If you are not respected in a relationship…Walk away…find yourself…start again…

This takes me back to the original question…How do you measure progress? Is it never falling down? Or, is it being able to get back up no matter how many times you fall?

I’m not sure I know how to fix me. All I know is I’m going to keep trying! If I fall…I’m going to get back up! If I catch myself being stupid…I’m going to stop! Get off the pitty-pot and rediscover my sense of self. Progress doesn’t have to be measured…it just has to happen! Love and Hugs!

Rocky and Rizzo at the beach

To Beach or not to Beach

Growing up part-time in LA predisposes one to a life long quest for beach front property. Or so I thought.

All of my adult life, I’ve pondered the idea of someday owning a piece of beachfront and spending countless hours with my toes in the sand and my senses engulfed in the smell of the sea and sound of the surf. Thoughts of sand pushing back against my feet as I walk along the shore picking up seashells and tasting the salt in the air as it passes over my lips on the way inland, have kept me going back year after year.

I’ve taken trips to Southern California many times as an adult. My kids spent many hours playing in the surf and picking sand out of their hair. The ocean called and I answered with a sense of duty and terror driven enthusiasm. As much as I love the ocean, I have always been afraid of it.

As a small child, I was taken out from the safety of shore by a wicked rip-tide. I had more than just sand in my hair…I have faint memories of the sand and water spinning me around and scraping my face on the floor of the ocean and a wave crashing down on me just as I felt the mist in the air above the water. I don’t remember anything after that until my mom and lifeguards were rinsing the sand out of my eyes on the shore.

Memorial sign at the Emmanuel Faith Community Church
Memorial sign at the Emmanuel Faith Community Church

I guess being afraid is what made me want to go in. I had to face my fear. I got certified to dive and learned to snorkel and went in the ocean every chance I got! I swam with seals off the peer in Hermosa…I snorkeled over a shark off Catalina…I even swam in Shark Bay near Phi Phi Island. Granted…I didn’t know it was a shark haven until after I’d been in the water for quite some time. Thank goodness the boat some 100 yards away was feeding them, so they weren’t hungry when I was in the water.

I went to Cali again this past weekend. It wasn’t for pleasure. It was my uncle’s memorial service. I ran straight to the beach as soon as I got settled in the motel. The smell of salt in the air should have called me to get in…it didn’t. I thought maybe it was because I had the dogs with me and that the feeling to get in would come later when I didn’t have them with me. It never came. I took the dogs back again and still had no desire to get in the water. I wasn’t afraid. I just wasn’t called. I enjoyed the time on the beach and the dogs had a great time and loved all the new smells.

Flowers at TMBR
Flowers at TMBR

On the way back to the motel, from the last trip to the beach, I felt homesick. For the first time in my life, I was homesick for the wind on TMBR! I realized on that highway, that I didn’t need the ocean to make me happy. I am very happy when I hear the wind and the sounds of birds and and the quiet of a misty morning in the woods.

All the daydreams of buying a chunk of sand by the big water suddenly dissipated and I just wanted to get “HOME” to my little slice of heaven I call TMBR. I want to feel the sun on my face, the wind in my hair and hear the sound of my hawk as he swoops down from the heavens to buzz the dogs and look for ground squirrels.

It’s kinda funny how the universe works. You can spend all of your life looking for something that you don’t need. And, when you have all you ever wanted, you don’t see it.

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, ‘tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.—Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember’d.
~William Shakespeare