I get crushes on weird people. Not necessarily the people you'd expect someone to get a crush on. But I realized a while back that I was much more attracted to interesting looking people than traditionally beautiful ones. Take Money Mark. I don't know what it is, but I have a crunch on him. His aloof, laid-back latin-asian look. Then there is William DeFoe, what's up with that one? And the classic Steve Buscemi - upon whom I don't have a crush anymore, but I did for a while. Then there is creepy Crispin Glover - I've had a crunch on him since way before Charlie's Angels.
So, oh well. If Bruce Chatwin was still alive, I'd probably have a crunch on him too. I'm so enamored with his writing (it's how I think) and his travels (reminds me of my own, though I have not been to the many places he has) and his adventerous spirit (which I identify with).
I remember when I started reading the Viceroy of Ouida, and thinking, damn, this is how I want to write. I was planning on taking these months off from work to write some book ideas. One about Brazil in the chatwin style. But, I have merely spent this time thinking about myself, my life and what I want. Doing a mental walkabout. Checking on my frequent flyer status, I have enough to go to Australia and Hawaii. Do I dare?
A friend of mine is traveling around the world. I just got his update from Zanzibar. ZANZIBAR!!! Amazing. I am reminded of the dead flying ... at the market in Port Vila, Vanuatu. Of flying into the airport made of cinder bricks topped with corigated sheet metal. (I know, isn't my spelling horrible?!)
Adventure. I thirst for it. And at the same time, security. I guess that's why I'll have a financial planner managing my assets, as I go out into the wilderness. At least that's what I like to think I'd do. I may just end up in a condo in Santa Monica or Venice, driving around listening to the eagles. Well, I hope it doesn't come to that.
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