So I'm alone here in the lab on a Saturday night listening to Imagine Avenue Radio and I suppose I should feel strange about this but I do not. I'm actually quite fine with it. If I were out, I'd be spending money I don't really have, and if I were in, I'd be at home pursuing a useless plot bunny on my laptop while eyeing the TiVo. So at least I'm doing something low-cost and productive whilst sharpening my movie soundtrack identification skills.
Today I took a wrong turn crossing the city to get from the lower Mission (where I bookended my mouse knockout/cloning experience by visiting Mitchell's for some Macapuno ice cream with my brother and his girlfriend; I last went there with Fred and Janet for the same when I'd finished the knockout construct) to the inner Sunset. I ended up on one of those crazy little split streets that curve and bend along the hills of San Francisco. This one presented me with a "Not A Through Street" after I'd already committed to it, so I followed it until I got to a point where I could turn my car around easily. Near the end of the tiny street, I happened upon Corwin Community Garden, a little oasis clinging to the hill above the Castro. How many other little gems will I never see in San Francisco? The sun was quite low at this point and I needed to get to the lab, but I vowed to return in the sun to visit this place. Of course, I've made many such vows over my years here, and I've yet even to see most of Golden Gate Park....
Hm. Off to the dark room.
29 April 2006
04 April 2006
passion (now don't get too excited)
The word has come up a lot lately, and it's been running around in my head for the last several days. I've had a couple of conversations about it, and they've both boiled down to: what is my passion in life? When coupled with a weekend saturated with period semi-romantic films (thanks a lot, netflix) and fever/phlegm/aches of the latest bug, that leads to a whole lotta introspection and brooding about my future.
I can't remember exactly when I first read "The Beast in the Jungle" by Henry James -- I suspect it was included in the collection we used to study "The Turn of the Screw" -- but ever since it has haunted me. If ever someone wanted to examine one of my deeper fears then by all means read it (it's a rather short story). If you don't want to take the time to read it (spoilers ahead!) then, in short, it's a character study of a man who spends his entire life believing he is destined for some great thing only to realize in the waning of his life that, in waiting for this great thing, his destiny became that nothing at all was to ever happen to him.
That's been my concern for some time now. Not that I suffer from overwhelming egomania, but I do feel that I could accomplish a lot in life if only I could discover that great thing, the undeniable talent, the goal that would be my passion for life. However, I've gotten this far in life and I've yet to discover fully what that thing is. This is not to say that I'm not inspired by people around me or the work that I do; I may be a masochist (see previous postings) but I'm not one to pursue people or work that hold no interest for me (or interest in me, for that matter!). I would like find a calling to make my stomach twist and brain burn with with deep and sustained passion. And I'd like it to happen sooner rather than later, lest I become a cautionary example of yet another victim of the Beast.
I can't remember exactly when I first read "The Beast in the Jungle" by Henry James -- I suspect it was included in the collection we used to study "The Turn of the Screw" -- but ever since it has haunted me. If ever someone wanted to examine one of my deeper fears then by all means read it (it's a rather short story). If you don't want to take the time to read it (spoilers ahead!) then, in short, it's a character study of a man who spends his entire life believing he is destined for some great thing only to realize in the waning of his life that, in waiting for this great thing, his destiny became that nothing at all was to ever happen to him.
That's been my concern for some time now. Not that I suffer from overwhelming egomania, but I do feel that I could accomplish a lot in life if only I could discover that great thing, the undeniable talent, the goal that would be my passion for life. However, I've gotten this far in life and I've yet to discover fully what that thing is. This is not to say that I'm not inspired by people around me or the work that I do; I may be a masochist (see previous postings) but I'm not one to pursue people or work that hold no interest for me (or interest in me, for that matter!). I would like find a calling to make my stomach twist and brain burn with with deep and sustained passion. And I'd like it to happen sooner rather than later, lest I become a cautionary example of yet another victim of the Beast.
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