(raw form - unedited)
Written on 2/12.
Projected to be completed and sent 2/13.
Rain disrupted internet.
Something I did disrupted (to put it mildly) my right/dominant shoulder.
Completed and being sent ‘later’. Odd to think of something as late if no time due nor expected, just projected rigidly by me. Sent past dates of numerical synchronistic ‘importance’. Missed by just ‘that much’. As always… and probably the point.
The day a while back, when I was contemplating ‘to write or not to write…’ etc etc, I had 3221 posts on IG, someone finally reimbursed me and rounded up to nearest dollar to … $221… OK OK OK I get it.. write to him. I look at the time. 12:21.
Note to self: Breathe. Every damn thing does not need some external symbiotic meaning to prove its merit and value.
So… at last… here it is.
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I’m writing this on 2/12/19.
13 months ago, today.
Most awkwardly disastrous coffee of all time.
For the first 8 months that followed, I couldn’t write at all. Nothing at all. Not one word. Why is not for now, another time, maybe.
13 months ago today.
Feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at the same time.
Know what else feels like a minute ago and a lifetime ago, simultaneously?
February 13, 2014 you posted a blog that inspired an uncharacteristic moment for me that I blogged about and you replied to me about. First time you did. Five years ago on the 13th .
13 is a good number… gets a bad rap but is a good number
So here we go….
“Sometimes I have a way with words ...sometimes words have their way with me.” - Atticus
The public post I just shared on social media is an anecdotal piece, inspired by our disastrous coffee.
I knew you didn’t want to be there. You were there because of your integrity, following through because long ago it seemed easy and nice to say yes to coffee, and once done…I could fade back into the masses on the net. You were there because, well you are awesome.
Beyond being busy – you didn’t want to be there. Things said, opinions and protective cautions by trusted friends, causing the tension, the near fully held breath, the ‘I can endure this for a few minutes and be done’ vibe.
I understood. I knew why.
Didn’t blame you.
Didn’t blame them.
Didn’t blame me.
With me till that last one, weren’t you?
Taking counsel from trusted friends who have your back, being cautious and discerning is wise and vital. Didn’t blame you.
Those who ‘cautioned’ you were being protective of you – their friend. I honor that, respect it and am glad you have such people. I imagine that most who did so, believed their sources of information, things set out before them, no reason to question it I suppose. Confabulation-esque, all stated with truest of belief and intent, not knowing truth or veracity of content. Didn’t blame them.
I know my truth. My flaws, my facts, my actions, my words. I know what did or did not happen by my hand. I cannot speak for others – not their actions, agendas, intentions. I have theories that I obviously think are akin to what the truth is but, as with others mentioned above, to speak what I sincerely believe doesn’t make it fact. It is not mine to correct, defend, clean up, nor bear the weight of. Didn’t blame me.
Was any of it comfortable? No.
Is silence and the best effort at grace and allowing dust to settle, those seeking attention to quiet when there is no one to spar with, and allowing peace to reign at the cost of bruised ego – is any of that easy? Hell no.
Could I have posted similar work that I did for my kids’ elementary school principal as a retirement gift back in the 90s, just to prove skills? Sure. I could have. No reason to.
Could I have asked individuals who had commissioned similar work from me, again, as long back as in the 90s, or those who had purchased prints from the shop where the original works were sold, to state when and what and from whom they purchased the work… who they saw in person make the adjustments they requested? I could have. No reason to.
Could I have pointed out who gained financially, who gained in popularity from the debacle? I could have but that would have been exhausting, a demeaning process to try and prove a negative. No reason to.
Ego bruised? Concern who would believe the tales being spun (you specifically obviously)? Sure. Allowing the barrage to go uncontested, allow whoever wants credit and spotlight and all the things I had no interest in, allowed me peace and maintaining a standard of grace.
I recently read a quote that said ‘Lying loudly doesn’t make it truth. Nor does frequency.’ People will believe what makes sense to them. We all do.
So I understand why you (extra) didn’t want to be there. Were uncomfortable. That even given all that, you were there, just magnifies who you are.
All of that is past. I am not revisiting, nor speaking further on it ever. No matter who asks. Not even you.
Eoin I am as socially awkward as a geriatric octopus fully shoed in stilettos. And that is on a good day. I knew you were rushed. I knew you ‘extra’ didn’t want to be there. I knew you were doing it to get it done and over with. I tried to be positive and not let any of that derail me into making explanations, or any other uncomfortable conversation between us. So of course it turned out even worse.
I understand not liking gifts. Not even from my kids. I like the stuff I like – but even books are challenging for me to accept because of how it feels to be given something – having nothing to do with the what is being handed to you. It of course is compounded when what you are gifted is inane. The items I TRULY wanted to give you were the Three Colours vinyl, and one or two of the others. The rest? Call it a flaw of mine. I see things that make me think of people, something they said (even if they have forgotten saying it) and I want to give it to them. It’s not about the thing as much as the feeling of ‘you – you were seen and heard and remembered… truly you were…see? I got this because I remembered what you said/liked etc’. I don’t do it to earn points nor attention. I don’t do it to prove myself – be it heart or memory but probably because I truly believe and feel most of us are not seen, or understood, not really, not thoroughly, not consistently nor as frequently as we should be. Making people feel seen and heard seems to be an underlying theme in a a lot of what I do.
As time went on and little bits gathered that at the time were probably at best mildly amusing, they lost their clever aspect as pages of life turned and moved forward. I should not have brought all of it. Sure many times from the inception of the infamous gift bags, I would replace the chocolates to be sure they were fresh, in hopes that I’d soon be able to hand you those bags but then time would pass and I’d do it again. They took on a life of their own, those bags. I should have culled them down to the few items of merit, worthy of being gifted to you. I apologize for the discomfort, for the overwhelm. If you knew me, you’d know I value presence not presents. I am sentimental to be sure, and what people I hold dear give me, I hold on to because of their presence, their heart in it… not just because of the thing no matter how cool it is.
You must have mentioned 4 or 5 times that you don’t have time to read even friends books and work, don’t like gifts from even friends and family, don’t have time for even a lot of friends and family. Duly noted Dude. You were there to be done. Not because of me, but because of your word to me, and you were fulfilling it to be done. I get it. Didn’t help me feel any less awkward but that is my responsibility, no one else’s.
You mentioned I was competitive and I’m not sure where that came from. I happen to be, but my kids will attest to the fact that I am the person I try to out-do and best is myself. That when I seem to be trying to excel beyond others, I do so because I feel that must be the standard I should strive for – usually to be at acceptable let alone exemplary level.
Awkard. I never know the balance between sounding nosy and voicing sincere interest. In discussing what I’m doing or creating and being a boring conversation hog. I read, I write, I tend to kids and cats, and plants… and if I had my way some dogs and goats but as per my kids our current space and budget doesn’t allow for that. They’re right and there are numerous health reasons we must move ASAP but some days it’s the desire for an awesome dog that I can name BevMo that has be scouring the real estate ads. Yes, Bevmo like the Toys R Us of liquor stores. Point being my life is small and quiet and I’m awkward as hell – even more so – especially more so when it is important and/or challenging. January 12, 2018 was surely both of those.
Here’s the thing, and I know I am probably saying this awkwardly, but… I want and wish for you all the success that you want and in the manner and form that you want it in (success means very different things to different people, let alone what they are actually comfortable with).. I want you to have as much of that as you want. I am thrilled that I get to enjoy your work on screens cinematic and televised. At the same time, that isn’t why I ever wanted to meet you or have coffee and chat. I ‘found’ you at some ungodly wee early morning hour via your blog. I think I’ve told you this. I didn’t see the name on the blog, had no clue what you looked like, what your career was, even what gender the writer was when I first began reading. I had been reading a client’s blog and clicked ‘next blog’ thinking it was the next of theirs and not realizing Blogger (is that what they still call themselves these days??) took you to a next randomly selected blog. I read one maybe two lines and what was this loud reality in my head (not sure how else to describe it) was ‘I know this soul’. I have since read all your blog posts and for the life of me have NO CLUE what those first few lines were, which blog I read. Very not like me. My reading recall is pretty good and I just don’t know or recognize what I first read. Whatever it was, I’m not even sure it was the content as much as the vibe, the cadence, was familiar. I know I read through a lot of your blog that morning but it wasn’t till weeks later when someone knowing my more mystical and esoteric interests asked if I had ever watched Merlin, and I started watching, liked it, and when I hit season 3 the name, the face… it was OMG THAT’S whose blog it is. It wasn’t your fame or your appearance or any such thing that was of interest. Still isn’t. (LOL not knocking either of those, just not the motivators.) It was not and IS not ‘Eoin Macken actor, director etc etc ‘ that I wanted to have coffee with. It was the soul that wrote that blog. Over time, as you released your books, I have found resonance in your writing, more of that ‘soul that blogged’, but also humbly muted so that the characters could have their voice.
THAT is who I wanted coffee with, and discussion with. But that day – while you were awesome, you were keeping much of yourself safe and ‘not there’ and I was very not me, busy being awkward and abrasive and clumsy, and horrid.
So… I am sorry. Hard for me to be at ease being me. I am sorry that made for a multi facetedly awful time. I promise to remember and courageously be me – the me who recognized that soul who wrote that blog – no pretense, no awkward, no presents, just presence. Probably some self consciousness because that’s how I am when not home in sweats, with coffee, laptop, and cats, where it all feels safe, but… I promise to do my best to remember and breathe, and be me… and hope to one day really have coffee with you.
P.S. Little tidbit as to how awkward and off I was that day... you asked what coffee I wanted - I said whatever you are having. Well I am VERY allergic to nuts and for all I knew you could have been ordering something with almond milk of hazelnuts and it didn't even click in my freaking out head that whoops that was a dangerous thing to say. (I know you may have already read this link and missing this add on.... so why write this ( ) content.... awkward ;)