It’s Been A Long Road

Posted on March 3, 2013 by Pearson Sharp

So here I am, stuck in the middle of a road that runs all directions at once. I’m nearly done with my novel, and the prospect of finishing is looming large above an inescapable horizon. I’ve learned a lot about writing in the last month, and a lot about what motivates me and inspires me. There’s a big difference between what you love to write, and what you want to write.

My book, for example, is a sci-fi book. It’s fun, it’s interesting, and it takes all the imagination I have to keep it going and imbue it with life and make it real. But I’m also becoming more aware that fantasy, sci-fi, these are things that, try as we might to fight reality, don’t exist. And because of this, there will always be a disconnect with the reader. A part of them that will be unable to connect with what you’re writing. Because it’s never happened to them. It’s never happened to anybody. They don’t understand it.

We do understand our own lives though. Or at least, we’re familiar with how they work and what happens and our own mistakes and screw ups and successes and triumphs and heartbreaks. That is all well and good, we know that stuff. And the more I realise this, the more it seems like that’s the kind of story I should be writing. Because I feel it, inside, that there is this truth behind the curtain of daily living that wants to be captured.

Hemingway captured it, for sure. I’m reading Bukowski right now, he got it too. Bukowski is like if Hemingway had written smut. It’s dark, it’s dirty, it’s gritty. I don’t honestly know if I like it, but it’s fascinating, and it’s real. That’s the kind of story I want to write. Something that grabs you by the balls and says no, this is what it’s about, go ahead and try and deny me but I’ll be here whether you like it or not.

Anyways. I’m writing, I’m reading, and living and learning. I’ve started going sailing recently. It’s fun.

Oddjob

Posted on January 25, 2013 by Pearson Sharp

So I went up to Newport Beach yesterday to help a buddy set up his store. He’s got a pretty cool shop that he’s preparing to become an exotic car dealership. I know he already has forty-something cars, Ferraris and Mercedes and probably some Lamborghinis or something, I don’t even know. In any case, I spent the afternoon arranging little toy cars in display cases around the front desk. Apparently those cars are worth a ton of money. These are little Hot Wheels sized cars that were upwards of a thousand freaking dollars. Just for a little tiny piece of plastic! I guess they’re part of the pastiche of collectordom and depending on who drove the real car and when, their value is determined.

Well I found a car I really liked, the Aston Martin DB5 from the James Bond movie Goldfinger, and I got to take it home. I’m not sure how much it’s worth, but you can completely take it apart and it has an ejector seat and machine guns behind the tail lights and a bulletproof shield that springs up at the push of a button behind the rear window. I’m not sure if that was a standard feature on all Aston Martins at the time, but it should have been. Maybe someday I’ll own a DB5 for reals, but even if I don’t, I couldn’t park it on my desk and imagine beefy Chinamen throwing bowler hats at me all day.

Another Likely Story

Posted on April 28, 2012 by Pearson Sharp

I don’t always choose musical titles, but when I do, I think they’re appropriate. I had the day off work yesterday so I went down to the beach to see if the water was ready for snorkelling again. It turns out it wasn’t ready. Not even close. But I went anyways. Growing up in Ohio, I had the perception of California that it was an ocean paradise, warm waters and surfers hanging ten left and right. As it happens, it is. But you must bring a wetsuit, or you will freeze.

down by the cove

I usually like to go snorkelling at the Cove in La Jolla, a small underwater preserve that has some amazing places to explore, as well as a seal colony to offer the occasional surprise swimming companion. Setting my mask and fins on the beach, I decided that instead of just jumping in right away and becoming a soprano, that I’d slowly wade in and take my time getting used to the water. After twenty minutes of gingerly creeping up through the frigid waves and trying to make my spasms look natural, three girls ran past me and dove right in, giggling and splashing. Some quick mental calculations followed this spectacle, and I decided that I was ready to go all in, or I would be forced to hand in my Man Card.

seals at the cove

I consider myself someone capable of “roughing it” without complaint. But that water was cold. I mean cold. Painfully cold, it felt like a vice grip made of ice cubes had clamped down on my head. You get used to the temperature pretty quick, but it never stops being cold, and you can never forget about it. It’s always there. But yesterday the water was incredibly clear, and as I swam through fields of swirling green seaweed and into rocky canyons on the sandy bottom, it was worth it.

Brilliant orange garabaldi and colourful little fish I can’t name darted past in silver flecks as I swam by. You can definitely see a lot floating on the surface, and there’s something serenely peaceful just floating there and rolling with the waves. But for me the best part of snorkelling is taking a huge gulp of air and diving down to the bottom, plugging your nose and blowing out to pop your ears, and swimming through the ocean carved rock channels to explore hidden places.

After about six minutes I’d had about as much of the freezing water as I could handle, and was trying to talk myself into staying longer, when I peeked around a coral ledge about fifteen feet down and came face to face with a little octopus! He was hiding in a patch of red seaweed and I’m not sure which of us was more surprised. I’ve probably gone snorkelling in the Cove two or three dozen times since I moved here, and spent many afternoons looking for new diving grounds. But I’d never seen an octopus! It was amazing to see him just sitting there in the kelp. When he spotted me he shrunk back and turned a deeper red, curling his little tentacles up around him, watching me warily. I went back up for air and dove down to see him five or six more times, but I don’t think he was as amused by this encounter and so he crawled into a dark crevice in the rocks. Octopus, the celebrities of the reef.

I was thrilled! I couldn’t believe I’d found a real octopus! I decided I’d do the snorkelling equivalent of a victory lap and swam out a bit farther. As I was diving down to the bottom, lo and behold, what did I see? Another octopus! I was dumbstruck. This was a little purple fellow, clinging to a bit of exposed rock on the bottom. When I came closer he leapt up and spurted away, tentacles trailing gracefully behind him, into a thick clump of seaweed. I was ecstatic, I didn’t think I’d ever get that lucky again, but to see two octopus in as many minutes?

I powered back to the shore wishing I had someone to share my discoveries with, but it’s difficult to share that you’ve just seen two marine cephalopod mollusks with strangers.

So I’m sharing it with you! Next time, and from now on, I’m bringing an underwater camera. It’s a beautiful place to visit, and definitely worth recording. However, until the water warms up or I get my hands on a wetsuit, I don’t think I’ll be testing my manliness anytime before June. But what a rush. There’s nothing quite like the flush of excitement that comes with finding something beautiful and wondrous in nature. When we have the power to build skyscrapers that soar into the cloudy heavens, land on another planet, and share information instantaneously with someone on the other side of the world, chancing upon one of nature’s random little wonders can be breathtaking.

Living La Vida Jolla

Posted on March 10, 2012 by Pearson Sharp

I’ve lived in a lot of places in my life: China, England, even Canada for a little while. All across the US, as well, from Ohio to Arizona, Colorado, California. Right now I’m living in La Jolla, California, about five minutes away from the beach. I’ve been here since August, and I have to say, my world view and disposition have significantly improved every day I’ve been here. The average January day is 60 degrees, and right now, early March, we’re sitting pretty with 75 the past few days. I wake up with palm trees and blue skies every day, and drive past the ocean on my way to work every single morning.

Last night I headed down to the beach to catch the sunset with Mary. We went to Black’s Beach, which is famous for being a nudist beach. Of course, the nudists are never the people you’d like them to be, but I’m happy seeing people out there enjoying themselves anyways. You’ll never catch me in my birthday suit out there, but hey, I’m down for whatever makes you happy baby. Just, you know. Dangle your fish bait over there.

If you’re not familiar with the area, Black’s is situated at the base of an enormous sandstone cliff. There are some pretty impressive views from the top, along with some pretty impressive real estate. We were feeling adventurous so we climbed down the long flight of natural and man-made steps to reach the bottom. The sun was just beginning to set, and we got some gorgeous photos before it peeked below the horizon on its way to Australia. It glimmered red for a long time after it actually set, I’m sure it was an optical illusion based on the curvature of the earth and reflection on the ocean and what-not.

In any case, it was well appreciated. After a hearty climb back up, we put the top down in her car, and drove down the coast for a ways, just enjoying the evening. It’s times like these that it really strikes me: all things human are of little importance. Plato said that, and I have to agree. I don’t know what it is about the beach and the ocean that turns everyone philosophic, but it works every time.

Out of all the places I’ve lived, I have to say it’s honestly pretty hard to have a depressing day here. Everything is just as it should be, day after day, and I can’t help but smile when I wake up in the morning. Maybe it’s just me, but I feel pretty grateful to be living here.