Monday, May 12, 2014

The Women in my past.


I came into the works of Ram Dass while i was at the University of Wisconsin in Green Bay, it was in the early eighties late seventies, I was a librarian then and had the smorgasbord of reading materials at my Kdisposal to peruse.and I am an insatiable reader, from Robert Ludlum's and Eric van lastbadder novels to the works of Jedu Krishnamurti, Alan watts and those of Rumi and Muhyeedin Ibn Arabi, the works and teachings of Gautama, the Buddha and the Tao Ti Ching, the Kamasutra and Tantric Buddhism and the Tibetan Book of the Dead, translations of the Bible and the Quran  and the Gita by various schools of the Holy Scriptures. I read, it was what kept my mind occupied with if it was not out hunting for that which satisfy the ego, like sex or the tavern. Some how i was able to squeeze it all in together or so it seemed; I put my knowledge to the test most of the time out of necessity and survival. The need for self preservation from the cold of Wisconsin.
Nowhere in my life was my sexual appetite more fulfilled than while I was an art student at the University and every relationship i had transformed me in so many ways as to how i understand women. I am no Don Juan or Casanova but if i have to compare my life I would choose that of Pablo Picasso, he also reminded me very much of my Grandfather the Artist Paul Mariano and not the converted Muslim name, Abu Taib. Picasso had his ways with women, they loved and hated him both at the same time, it was a love hate relationship with the Maestro. Only the strong and intelligent in continence were chosen t or chose to be his partner and they never was the same again after getting to know the man up close and personal.

“There are only two types of women: goddesses and doormats.”― Pablo Picasso

I don't consider myself on par with the Great Painter's charismatic ways with the Ladies but i must admit that my life as a wannabe artist somewhat is not to far from that of Picasso when it came to women. I was pretty much blind and ignorant about them as I slipped out of one and entered a new relationship; like i said more out of a matter of survival; better to sleep with your face buried in between a fair size bosom of of women than to freeze your buns in the cold Wisconsin nights. it was a woman who brought me to Mid West and I slowly found out soon enough that to have a good lady by your side is an asset you cannot live without But this was not enough and my ego took on a sexual greed, that illness called lust: than lust brought me here. I mistook many things for what it was and one of them was not drawing a distinct line or develop a thorough understanding of what it is to love and lust so much so that my relationships with the women often end up to be nothing more than a form of masturbation. I can safely say that while living in the US i had a long term relationships of an average of two years. Every two years i find myself looking for a new companion. It was far from a healthy way to live but it was it back then, broke open many hearts and repaired some.
I felt like a psycho emotional parasite often times living off the energy of women, their love and devotion their care and kindness and their wrath. If someone say you are looking to get back into your mother's womb I would not disagree more, that was the manifestation I felt that my mind was playing out on me knowingly or otherwise; I kept them warm too when they needed love and friendship in those cold Wisconsin nights.
MC was the first young lady who I had a relationship with that last over two years after my divorce with my first wife. I was living in the Sule family basement at the time down the road from where MC lived and we often ran into each other in school and at the Grocery Store she worked at as the checkout girl. I fell in love the moment she smiled at me the most heart warming and genuine smile that a person can give another, there was always  a twinkle in her eyes whenever this happened. We hit off after our classes at the art studio where one thing led to another when she was nineteen and I was about  thirty one or two at the time. She was the daughter of a liquor salesman and I was a long haired, bearded , pot addict of a freak of an artist who was living on a part time security job to pay for my food and lodging while going to school.
Mich as i would call here was one of the most warm hearted person I have had the opportunity ti live with, she made me see myself from a greater height by the ways she took care of my needs almost selflessly. I ate well drank well and listened to the best of music and most of all she was always there for me.  Mich was also one of the most intelligent and intuitive person I have ever encountered and from whom I did learn the facts of life in and out of bed. it was when i was living at Leon Lodl's  old farm out on Humboldt Road that some of the best times i spent with a woman took place. The place had its own charm to be sure located out in the middle of nowhere surrounded by cornfields in summer and six feet of snow in winter. I had a dilapidated barn with wooden silos leaning precariously to one side and it was beautiful. I lived there sometimes with a house mate but most of the time alone only with my landlord Lee Lodl an eccentric of a man who had the taste for good wine classical music or jazz and strong, intelligent and loving women. I often had the whole place to myself as my landlord was often working up North in Iron Mountain Michigan where he had bought an old church and was converting it into a ski lodge.  
Nothing like snuggling a woman buried in a bean bag facing a blazing fire place sipping a Chardonay or whatever sample Mr.C had for me to try from his liquor cabinet and getting stoned on a sensamilian or Humbolt Gold while listening to Jean Pierre Rampal or Hubert laws or Grover Washington Jr. Mich would make sure I have the latest albums on these along with George Benson and Bob James. She would arrive or i would pick her up after her work and we would spend the night lavishing the simple things in life while outside we are surrounded by snow banks higher than the roof of my car. But this too will pass and had to. It was not so much that she was not right for me as she was more than so, but I felt like i would be doing her a worse injustice if i tried to cling on to her, I would only deprive her of her greatness as a student and possibly for greater things in life later on: I did not anything worthwhile to offer her except possibly heart aches and disappointment. 
Wherever or whatever she is up to these days I hope Mich is having a ball,
To Be Contd.







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