Sell-Portrait
I'll be forty-two years old this January,
and looking back over the years laid out in "books" I've come to
realize things about myself. I've been married three times now. The
beginning was Evelyn, who
happened before the starting of these
works, but none the less was first. I can hardly remember what
she looked like, but I know I loved her. She
was from Boston; I was in the Navy and needed somewhere
to hide out in. I was twenty-one when we were
married, and the Navy kept us apart.
In 1968 I got out, or better,
"escaped" from the Navy and went to college. Bryant-Stratton Junior College,
that is, downtown Boston, two years,
computer science ( including calculus ), graduated with honors in
business and computer science, 3.69 GPA.
We moved to New Mexico, Portalles to be exact, so I could
finish school in two more years, we could
move back to civilization, have kids, buy a house, and be
just like our parents. This didn't work
out as planned because there was something not right
between Evelyn and myself. She had never
really been anyplace, nor done much in her life and
by the time we came together, in
Portales, New Mexico, she began to ask her self if I was what she
wanted. The answer came up no. On
Christmas day, 1970 Evelyn left for Clovis, New Mexico and on
Valentines day, 1971, I last saw Evelyn.
I gave her a rose, and wanted her to come with me, but she
couldn't. I hope everything worked out
for her. Evelyn and I had many sexual problems, and as a result
this particular area of my life probably
took on more importance than it should have. In a short period
of time, Lynn became my second wife. I
was in Rochester in February of 1971, and in October of that
same year, we were married. I thought everything would fall into
place, 'as it had with Evelyn.
Lynn and I had a good sex life. I was twenty-six
years old, and had all the answers. It didn't take long
to realize there is more to life than
sex. After four years, I finished college and began my rise up the corporate
ladder and things between Lynn and I changed. It was the combination of
changes,
degrees, jobs, and of course, Susan. Lynn
was pregnant when I fell in love with Susan, so it was bound
to get complicated. I don't think this
was because of her, but rather, as a result of circumstances.
I was supposed to be what Lynn wanted me
to be, not what I wanted, no questions asked. That's what her
father was, and that's what I was to be,
no discussion. Susan came along, on her way to Alaska to become a photographer,
said "hey, I love how you are", and I gave up being a slave.
AT THE EDGE was written at that time, as
Lynn gave birth to Jason. She took me back, and got
pregnant with Joshua as Susan left for
Alaska. I stayed to take care of children. These things happened
in 1978-1979, blending into a haze of
emotion, resulting in the beginnings of the books you're reading,
and the therapy I'm writing. I don't take
any pride in the fact that I did commit adultery with Susan,
but the events were beyond my control. I
was becoming my self, and wanted to be me, and somebody beautiful said
"hey", while my wife preferred to see my shortcomings. My life was a
struggle, and I did
something about it, I changed.
Having left, although still tightly
coupled to Lynn and the boys, feeling a sense of freedom and exploration,
Alexis and I danced together in her world
of chaos. I never married Barbara though we were together
as if we had. I did all the things I'd
wanted to do, the thought that life is for the taking, and everything
was there for those who were brave. Events
that I was not proud of happened, and Barbara and I really
destroyed each other with our pursuit of
freedom.
Kathy was the opposite of Barbara; there
was a safe quality to our relationship. She was not a threat
and had a soft, gentile quality. I needed
to heal from the previous years. I knew, before we were
married, that "things" were not
right. There were periods during our relationship that communication
was impossible. She would go off, in a mood that would leave me
wondering what I had done? I had
done nothing. This lack of togetherness
caused me great stress. I suppose it was difficult for her knowing
I
didn't have a passion for her. We had many conversations about this. Her
interests were different
than mine, digs were important to Kathy,
thought she refused to become involved without me. I was interested in writing
and painting, while she was interested in digging. On one occasion I went, drew
pictures, made a video, but wasn't able
to get into moving dirt, an inch at a time. So, no physical
attraction, poor communications, a
difficult teenage daughter, no respect leads to
flight. Kathy has the freedom to do the
things she said she wanted to do, and after two years of silence,
writing. I've come back to where I'd left
off in 1985.
It was, with all this on my mind, having
completed the series described in this chapter, that a
self-portrait was the final piece. It's
always been difficult for me to see my self enough, in proper terms,
to paint a picture of what I think, or
thought, I looked like. I set out, without the benefit of a marker
sketch, to put down and indication of my
features. The painting is not as large as the others, but has
the necessary thick background to blend
strokes, into, and upon the canvas. The face is turned away
from center, a quizzical look upon it.
The look comes from the works written on these pages, and from
my abnormal outlook on the world. I leave
you with the following self-portrait, in yellows, red, and
touches of blue. I wish it was a little
softer.
"love
your self, and follow the signs
God is within us all,
expect no rewards,
and they're yours".
