…is a warm gun

My dear friend (aka fabulous web designer) Tzaddi recently blogged about being thankful.  I, myself, have been trying to round up a different beast of burden: happiness.

I have found it akin to herding cats.

Of course the concept of happiness is different for everybody; each person has their own idea of what it is.  Some folk even manage to go out and get it.

And then there is me.

I definitely fit into the Grass Is Greener category of happiness.  I sometimes wonder if I am happy…I just don’t know it because I am so consumed with thinking I would be so much happier doing/being something else.  The moments of joy that I do have seem fleeting.  I always seem to be busy steeling myself for the next bout of ennui.

Not even sure I know what would make me happy anymore.  Achieving happiness seems easier when you are a kid.  When I was ten I could buy happy for a quarter:  a bag of penny candy, an afternoon of swimming at the pool.  Happiness is more complicated when you are an adult.  Or maybe it isn’t.

Damn.  What if I am happy – but just too obtuse to recognize it?

Like it or not, dissatisfaction does propel me forward (and backward and sideways).  Maybe I wouldn’t have a reason to push so much if I didn’t want more.   Maybe I wouldn’t be an artist if I wasn’t so pervasively unsatisfied.

Or maybe I would.  And my art would be all teddy bears having picnics and princesses riding unicorns into the sunset.

[h-u-u-r-r-r-r-r-l]

Not that there’s anything wrong with teddy bears and unicorns, you know.

If that’s what you’re into.

[gag]