It’s not a question of what ends up on paper, or at least not every day. It’s really more like working out. It’s keeping the muscles active, so with nothing to say sometimes it’s just a matter of keeping the fingers moving.
Reno was a blast but I’m so out of practice with business travel that it did leave me exhausted, and frankly, empty. The torrent of words running from my mouth emptied my head and I honestly feel 20 IQ points lower this week. This is not a new phenomenon but it’s going to take a few more days to recharge and while it’s tempting to take off and hide for a few days it’s not an option. It’s a bit more than a week before the event season is over and then it’s back to normal for a few months. The holidays are coming and that offers some time off for leisure travel and rest.
I’m ready for that.
Spending nearly a week in a casino was interesting. I began to wonder how the people who work there all the time manage the drain from the constant movement and buzz. Do they sit at home in the dark as an escape from the lights and bells? It’s a different story from those of us who just camp there for a while. What about the people who live it? I’ve often thought that simply living in New York became over-stimulating and it can require a regular detoxification from the noise and light pollution. A casino is all that condensed. There is nothing organic. There is nothing natural or in sync with the natural world. Everything is manmade and shiny… and loud…
Then, at least in Nevada, you walk outside and there are two colors. There is blue sky, and many shades of brown Earth. It’s like all the colors were stripped from the landscape and funneled inside under one roof and polished to a high sheen. The color inside was no replacement for the lack of color outside. I was out of my element there in many ways and it struck me that I do take for granted the small amounts of organic life around me here. It took a few days to shift the view and recognize the scale. To recognize the depth of the horizon and the open space. Do people there find it awe inspiring? Are they moved by it? Or does it create the sensation of being very small and isolated. You could travel a very short distance in Nevada or Utah and find yourself in a place where nobody could hear you if you shouted at the top of your lungs. You could find yourself alone with yourself. I don’t know if I remember what that feels like. I suppose I’ve felt the same thing here and I’ve said before how absolutely shattering it is to feel truly lonely with people all around you. Is it better or worse to feel it when you are really alone?
I don’t remember. I have no recollection of ever being actually alone. Lonely? Yes. Alone? I just don’t remember. I’d imagine that being truly alone would be a novelty for a bit but how about after a week or two? Or a month? How much different would it be from what I’m doing at this moment, just sitting here and muttering to myself (in a sense)?