I love people. I’m delighted to meet new people and I love my friends dearly. Which is not to say that I’m some huge extrovert. I’m not. I’m often content to sit quietly at a party and observe. And sometimes I feel suddenly inspired and I have to leave.
That inspiration could simply be to think in solitude. Or it could be to write or to paint or to sing my heart out under the stars. I’ve been obsessed with art my whole life. I’ve worked in the theatre, sung opera, painted portraits and murals, written and illustrated comics, played French horn in the symphony. I long ago accepted the reality that being an artist is like being a professional lottery winner. And sometimes I do win, but mostly I've relied on day jobs of one kind or another.
I’m not the kind of guy who’s gonna take a year before he says “I love you” to his girlfriend. I don’t tend to hang out with people whom I don’t love. On the other hand, if I hang out long enough with a person, I’ll prolly find something to love about them.
It’s so sad to me when folks break up and can’t stand each other all of a sudden, when a week ago they were “best friends.” I don’t think real best friends do that. Two of my real best friends are ex-girl friends. I’ve known them for quite a few years now and expect we’ll be close for the rest of my life.
I don’t believe there is such a thing as “meaningless sex.” That’s like a “meaningless” sunset or a “meaningless” conversation. It diminishes us to think that way.
I believe love is something we get better at with practice. To me that means loving first and asking questions later.