Late '05--Amy Troy from Channel 8 News did a story.
Spring of '06--Shobi (my nephew and DKB partner) and I hit LA beach for a 30-minute break during a Natural Foods Expo.
As we were creating the current version of the DKB packages, we tried several poses for the back label. This one didn't make the cut.
An ill-advised trip to San Fran to play a few shows with MDC. 
"Dancing" on the Marquam Bridge during the Bridge Pedal cycling event in July of this year.
My farmer's market friend Sharon tells me--kindly--that I need balance in my life. Others have alluded to this fact, too. I've been out of prison for 32 months now. As anyone who has done any serious time would say, "I can do 32 months standing on my head". In a sense, I'm still doing that time. I'm still mostly keeping my own company, because I'm the only one I know who hangs out with people like me.
As a prison inmate, I became "obsessed" with work as a drafter and with playing my guitar (both of which were tremendous blessings for me, I might add), and got my recreation by running the track and hitting the weights. For the most part, that put me in the "1 percentile" of inmates who are actively making every effort to grow as people and overcome the cycle (my number. But one percent seemed quite generous to me).
What has changed? Not much. I hit the ground running when I was released in late December of '04. Adhering to the same principles by which I had found success in the joint, I set out to fill the creative void at NatureBake, a family company started by my parents and now owned by my brother, Glenn.
If you had told me 3 years before this that I'd be going in this direction, I would have said you were out of your mind. I had learned to cherish my independence from a family situation that I had resented and found depressing as a youngster. I had been my own boss for decades, even if most of that time I'd acted the fool. I had been gifted with a chance to learn computers and computer-aided drafting while incarcerated and I knew that my skills would be very applicable in a creative field somewhere. The last thing I needed was to be in a stifling family-controlled environment.
But here I was, with seemingly my work cut out for me: just make some really great stuff that people want. Great. If anyone could do it, I could. I had embraced the following concept of humility: be who you are--no more or less. Be accepting--even welcoming--of your "failures" and missteps as learning and growing "opportunities". Be just fine where you are, as you work your proverbial ass off on your way to the next level.
I must say, this principle has guided me well so far. Not to say that I've always been humble. And perhaps my greatest stumbling block is that I have a hard time accepting others' lack of effort and commitment, by my standards. But if I was perfect, there would be no "next level".
Anyway, as much success as I enjoyed in prison, I have found a great deal more on these streets. But I still don't hang out, go to parties, golf, or even play much guitar anymore.
If you understood where I have been, perhaps you could see why "balance" may not be what I need just yet. This crazy, full, lonely life is my best bet.
But thanks for the love, Sharon. Thanks for the concern. Perhaps, in another year or two, I will have the luxury of finding that balance.
In the meantime, any other workaholics wanna get together for a jam session?
As a prison inmate, I became "obsessed" with work as a drafter and with playing my guitar (both of which were tremendous blessings for me, I might add), and got my recreation by running the track and hitting the weights. For the most part, that put me in the "1 percentile" of inmates who are actively making every effort to grow as people and overcome the cycle (my number. But one percent seemed quite generous to me).
What has changed? Not much. I hit the ground running when I was released in late December of '04. Adhering to the same principles by which I had found success in the joint, I set out to fill the creative void at NatureBake, a family company started by my parents and now owned by my brother, Glenn.
If you had told me 3 years before this that I'd be going in this direction, I would have said you were out of your mind. I had learned to cherish my independence from a family situation that I had resented and found depressing as a youngster. I had been my own boss for decades, even if most of that time I'd acted the fool. I had been gifted with a chance to learn computers and computer-aided drafting while incarcerated and I knew that my skills would be very applicable in a creative field somewhere. The last thing I needed was to be in a stifling family-controlled environment.
But here I was, with seemingly my work cut out for me: just make some really great stuff that people want. Great. If anyone could do it, I could. I had embraced the following concept of humility: be who you are--no more or less. Be accepting--even welcoming--of your "failures" and missteps as learning and growing "opportunities". Be just fine where you are, as you work your proverbial ass off on your way to the next level.
I must say, this principle has guided me well so far. Not to say that I've always been humble. And perhaps my greatest stumbling block is that I have a hard time accepting others' lack of effort and commitment, by my standards. But if I was perfect, there would be no "next level".
Anyway, as much success as I enjoyed in prison, I have found a great deal more on these streets. But I still don't hang out, go to parties, golf, or even play much guitar anymore.
If you understood where I have been, perhaps you could see why "balance" may not be what I need just yet. This crazy, full, lonely life is my best bet.
But thanks for the love, Sharon. Thanks for the concern. Perhaps, in another year or two, I will have the luxury of finding that balance.
In the meantime, any other workaholics wanna get together for a jam session?
