The later part of the quarter would reveal my ignorance, my arrogance, and my luck.

This was a graduate level music class that only happened to have the word "history" in its title. This was not a history class. It was a music class. And with my jock on the floor after the first week, I soon realized I didn't belong. I should quit. I don't belong here.

But I didn't. Something kept my dumb ass around. In what would turn out to be the greatest act of my college education, I stayed in to burn. And boy did I burn. I didn't give up, not because I'm a bad ass or have some unreal work ethic or super powers, no. I stayed in the class because I couldn't wait to sit in those red row bucket auditorium seats and listen to the professor.

He was a jazz musician by profession that landed a gig as a professer. He taught on a music stage with house lights, a gorgeous black piano off to his left. And man was he compelling. Every word he spilled, every musical theme he taught, was filled with such conviction, direction, and absolute seriousness. This was his craft, his art, passed down through a history so rich and so deep, and I never saw someone take something so serious in all my life. Ever. This shit was not dying on his watch, no mother fucking way.

I'll never forget that class.

That someone had something so close to the bone, in the heart, on such an absolute level of seriousness and resolve. That there was something that mattered, something that mattered more than life. That killed me. And still does.

He was in many ways the greatest professor I ever had. He taught the greatest class I ever took. A great jazz pianist. A great teacher. I owe you. Thanks Marc.

*Marc Seales has several albums on iTunes, I personally recommend the track Deep River off of his album A Time, A Place, a Journey

About time to write something I've been putting off for years. For no reason really, if I'm altogether honest. I guess now is just the time.

My good friend and long time training partner (on the left) died from cancer a few years back. A dislodged tumor from his spine, stuck in his neck. Chemotherapy couldn't fix the giant. And before we get all sentimental and nostalgic up in here, relax. I doubt he'd want that. What he might like, not that I'm soliciting his spiritual opinion, is this.

First off, I was abroad when he was diagnosed with cancer. And still abroad when I get the news that he had died. So I never got to say goodbye or thanks or you kick ass or anything remarkably drewconian to my mate. That kinda sucks. And it hurt.

But rest assured I paid attention, as best I could, and he taught this miserable little kid a lot about life. What I learned at the time, though didn't recognize until later, was two important things. As clear and precise as anything in life can be.

One. There's a time to focus and there's a time to play. If you're only practicing one of the two, or none at all, than you're not paying attention. And you're not living life. You're asleep.

Two. You get what you put in. Simple. Direct. Honest. And true.

Randy, I miss you man. And I'm thankful that our paths crossed. Maybe next time we can walk a little longer together. I'd like that.

My body doesn’t ache in the morning and I have all the energy I could ask for. I do however feel so removed from my past. Maybe it’s less about aging and more about being just so very different than before. Having to sort archives and previous posts spanning seven years for this site was a nice healthy dose of self reflection.

I could learn to love this aging thing.

So, here I am thirty years later. A bit larger, a bit more humbled and maybe, just maybe, a bit more polished. I’ve learned a lot about life, about what works and what doesn’t work and I’ve certainly paid attention to exactly what is going on around me. Here are my thoughts, observations, learnings, shall I dare say advice, and most importantly the things I’m moving forward with after thirty years of a truly brilliant fucking life.

KISS - Keep It Simple Stupid. Nearly every faucet of life is made better by simplicity, keep it as simple as possible. From planting a garden, to plating a nice dinner, to travel plans, to a work proposal, to the kiss on a woman’s neck, to your over-thought plans for the perfect life. Keep it simple.

Keep your standards high. In every single thing your soul touches, have standards. Whether it’s the type of people you let into your life or the food you let into your mouth, have some standards. Stick to them.

Never take your health for granted.

Have a little humility. You’re not perfect. You never will be. The sooner you accept this and move on, the more rewarding life will be. People are bundles of mistakes ready to spill over by their very nature, get over it.

Keep your mind open. Do absolutely whatever it takes to distant yourself from the bewildered herd.

Don’t be afraid to say goodbye.

The only way through a problem is through confrontation. You simply can’t afford to side step your problems. Confront them, solve them, and move on.

Know what you’re talking about, or don’t talk. Then go study.

Stay away from routine. Whether it’s as simple as a small variation on the route you take to work or a different flavor of cereal for breakfast, thick routines should be avoided.

Your occupation doesn’t define who you are. If it does, try again.

Never ever mistake motion for action.

Find your artistic avenue, whether it’s writing or photography or painting or charcoal or stained glass window or music or cross stitch, whatever it may be, find it. I’m a big believer that everyone in the this world is an artist, just not all of them know it. Once you find it, don’t stop. Ever.

Understand the difference between fact and opinion, understand where one ends and the other begins.

Never ever be afraid to speak up. Be honest, be humble, be polite, but never fear putting your mind into words.

Work hard, and play hard. Don’t take things so damn seriously, and when you do, do the job right.

Laugh.

Take some time on the sidelines to reflect. Daydream. Take your own pulse. Assess what’s working and what’s not working.

Get off your ass and get on your feet. When in doubt, take the stairs. When in doubt, go for a walk.

Embrace, kiss, and love change.

Let go. The amount of things you can actually control in this world is quite miniscule. Don’t try to control everything. Let life work its magic.

The answers come from within, not from the outside.

Stay away from excuses, period.

Never consider your audience. Live life without a filter.

Don’t try to be too clever.

Have some compassion. I really can’t stress this enough.

Character trumps experience.

Rules are manmade. Break them. Break them often.

Accept your death and that of everyone else. Enjoy the ride.

Embrace that which you’re not, embrace difference. You simply can’t have harmony in the world with one single note.

Love yourself.

And finally, after all the soul searching and thinking and dreaming and figuring out is done, if there is anything I’ve ever learned in all my days it’s this. Figure out what it is you do. And never ever stop.

I’ve taken two months away from writing, not having even thought about picking up a pen. Last I saw my camera was holstered in the corner collecting dust and spider webs. I have no immediate travel plans and I’m back in Seattle to stay, for a little while at least. With two months worth of reflection at my disposal, I’ve had the opportunity to put the bulk of my travels into some relevant context and I keep coming back to the same central themes.

I’m convinced my travel site pushed my personal boundaries. My thought process, my creativity, my artistic acuity, my writing, sketching and photography were all nurtured by my last site. It helped to outline the frequent thoughts and ideas I had fermenting inside, serving as an outlet for my own stylistic forms of expression. As the days turned from weeks to months and then into a year, the passing of time culminated in the realization that expression had become a vital component in my life. A component that was here to stay.

After a few months offline sorting the particulars, I felt it was the appropriate time to bring back the vicarious vigor, the tasty lick-smacking rant-infested discourse back to the world wide web. With my new site I’m giving myself the opportunity to elaborate on the ideas and seeds that I hit upon while on the road. I’ve realized how ever-changing and ever-evolving life is and my intentions are to further that ever-ness. To foster what began on the road and to push the boundaries further and further from the ordinary. The boundaries of perception and truth. The boundaries of true happiness. The boundaries of true fulfillment in life. The boundaries of expression. The boundaries of being one with myself.

My last website dealt with this theme a little bit and I feel that this site, black clover, will be a continuation of that. Of fucking with the perception and parameters of what a meaningful life entails and, keeping with the theme of expression, the idea that each individual has distinctive elements of character, an inner calling if you will, that is vital to foster along. The concept of taking personal expression and unfettered emotion from within and having to consciously decide how to act upon it accordingly is a day to day struggle on my part. It’s something I fight with every single day. In part because for me to remain true to myself my expression must be in accordance with positive energy, with strokes of compassion and bustles of truth, and, at the end of the day, in accordance with who I am, where I am and where it is that I need to be. A feat certainly easier said than done. But it’s a feat that is all a part of the journey, in the end, making the ride that much sweeter.

I now begin another journey in life with a new job, a new outlook and this, my new web site. The table is now set. The candles are light. Dinner is served. And I’m as hungry as ever. But fuck all the clichés. Let’s have fun with this one.

True to the road and travel that inspired it, this is blackclover.

Today is both a day of wistful sadness and elation. It’s both an ending and a beginning in my life. Today, in all its sadistic glory, is the day I announce the end to my year-long bout of travel. My spree of foreign adventure has now come to an end. What a journey it has been.

What to say? Where to start? What emotion to feel? I sincerely wish I knew. I do know that there is simply no way to properly express a year of life in words, at least not by me. I could never quantify the last year of my life in words. I couldn’t do it the justice that it deserves. What I can try to express is the change, what I’ve become through the process of traveling and what the horizon of my future is likely shaping up to be as a result.

Eagerly waiting in nerve-racking anticipation for my foreign adventure to begin, I can remember back to the way my life was before I left. It was great. I was full of zest. I was excited and I had nothing but the dream of travel at my door step. But I was naïve. I had ideals and expectations of what traveling abroad should and shouldn’t be. Admitingly they were, for the most part, overly-romanticized for I had built a pedestal and placed the globe upon it. I envisioned far away places, wide open spaces and tender new faces. I envisioned placid idyllic stretches of beach, historic awe-inspiring cities and fields of rolling hills and bountiful endless countryside. I dreamt of deserts and rainforests, oceans and mountains, sunsets, sunrises, shooting stars and foreign moons. I envisioned gorgeous foreign female beauty and bountiful culture. I acknowledged there would be deep self-question at every bend and, if I was lucky, occasional late-night epiphanies. I envisioned culinary rarities, linguistic difficulties, bus rides to the break of patience, the joys of foreign currency, friendship and the warmth and generosity of like-minded people from a world away. That, in part, is what I envisioned. Those were the highlights of the travel dream that was manifesting in my soul prior to departure. For the most part, I have now lived those dreams out. The pedestal that a year of travel built was different than the one I envisioned, but it wasn’t necessarily better or worse. It was just, different. And I honestly wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. As my naivety slowly died along the way I began to take notice and become aware of things I had not anticipated nor imagine.

One of the realizations I hit upon while traveling was that I would no longer be satisfied with chasing dreams. I now live them. Because for so many years of my life, though I was generally happy, I was living for a moment so far in the distance. I was living for a dream, for something to come to me, a something that would eventually bring me true and lasting happiness. To this day I’m still unsure what it was. Whether it was a moment of clarity, fame or recognition, a woman, an occupational advancement, the purchase of a winery, a final curtain-call of glory or something else entirely – I don’t know. Nowadays I realize and acknowledge full well that my happiness and peace of mind start and begin with me. I have to live the dream. My dream. Every day I find that my life is a constant day-to-day struggle to remain happy, to remain serene and to remain balanced and compassionate, all of which are major components of my life long dream.

Then there were my more difficult moments of change. I came across a shocking revelation abroad. I realized that I’ve been fueled and driven by negative energy for so many years, for twenty-four years, and while the by-product of my actions were for the most part positive, it got to a point where something inside just wasn’t right. I was hurting inside. I, drew, was actually hurting! And the more I began to question and understand the more I realized that something wasn’t right. I had to commit to a change. The initial questioning opened my eyes to how fragmented I really was and I had to stop to ask myself – where is all of this negative energy, this negative emotion, coming from? And why? Why am I so compelled by negative and destructive energy, both physically and emotionally? To figure that out I had to be stripped bare of everything, down to nothing but my essence. I had to get down to the bones of what drew really was in order to understand who he really is and why he’s doing what he’s doing in life. I had to get naked emotionally and comfortable enough with my inner self to begin anew. To build a positive base and a positive structure in which to leap from. I had to take the time to fully understand where it was that I needed to be, where it was that I was comfortable and where it was that positive emotion and positive energy could be cultivated. The product of year away, and more importantly a year alone, ensured that. I made the clear and concise decision to turn things around into positive energy. It was a decision I sincerely needed to make in life. Once I got to the point where everything felt right, the feeling and sensation of the change was indescribable. A rebirth of sorts. My entire perspective and core were changed and they became positive in the process. What a free feeling. A freeing feeling.

I also realized that some things about me and my lifestyle will never change. I’m driven and motivated by highly energetic emotion. I simply can not deny that. My personality is boundless and passionate, a stream of consciousness, but I’ve realized that I can be all that and be motivated and compelled by positive energy. I can be stable and balanced, grounded and bound by positive energy, and still be myself clearly and completely. I can’t begin to describe how different my life has become by accepting this change into my life.

It’s clear to me now how analogous travel is to life. There are moments of suffering and defeat, brilliance and triumph. Travel is sadness and divine exaltation. Uncertainty, change, friendship and bitter heartbreak when it flees. Travel can be dangerous and exciting, inspirational, difficult, relaxing, strenuous and above all else traveling is life. It’s humbled to the dirt with your face caked in dust, all the while keeping your chin up and trying to have a little bit of hope. That’s life. At least that’s my life. To keep my head up, brave the world, push on down the line and have a little hope.

It feels good to be drew. It’s a good time to be fresh off the road. It feels good to have adopted a new outlook on life. It feels good to be committed to and driven by wholesome positive energy. It’s just a good time to be drew. I’m in good place right now. It’s a spiritual time and a freeing time. I’ve finally found lasting peace of mind, love and compassion. I’m comfortable. I’m dynamic, deeper and more expressive than ever before. I admit that life is rough sometimes. It hurts. I hurt. But at the end of the day after all the highs and lows I feel so blessed and so fortunate to live this life I live. With so many blissful joyful memories and so many great people surrounding and shaping my soul, it makes my heart tear up sometimes. It’s all worth it.

Where does this leave me and my site, my travels and my life? I can’t honestly say. I know that as much of an ending as this feels in so many respects, it’s really a beginning. A beginning with a new outlook and a new appreciation and affinity for so many things, so many vulgarities and intricacies that never e
ven crossed my mind a year ago. At this moment, I can’t honestly commit to a future. And there’s beauty in that. For now, I’m content in saying my goodbye. I’m going to take myself away from this site, away from artistic photography, away from traveling, away from writing and away from email for a while until I understand where it is that this site and all that it encompasses needs to be. I read over my purpose, my tale of the tape, my philosophy and the like and it feels so foreign. It needs to grow and change, as I have.

I appreciate all the thoughts, all the love, all the intellectual gifts, the perspective, inspiration, conversation and generous musings that everyone has sent my way in the last year. Fellow travelers on the road, family and friends, my web designer and the on-looking audience of complete strangers. I thank you. For you have helped mold and shape the last year of my life into something unbelievably memorable that I shall cherish, forever. Much love and veneration.

I had to leave to find out where home was. Not in the sense of where I lay my head at night but home as in the home inside. The home where I need to be and now am. I’m very, very fortunate to realize why I had to go through what I had to go through to get here. I left home, not looking for answers, but for new questions. And I found them.