Boo

       Boo.
       That was my pet name for her. I can’t tell you why I called her that. Not  without revealing her real name. But I can tell you, it wasn’t because she was scary looking. Au contraire. Stunningly Beautiful. Incredibly Sexy. And I told her so. All the time.
       I loved every square inch of her. Head to toe. Literally. When I kissed her, anywhere, it was like wrapping my mouth around a sweet, delicious, soft piece of juicy girl fruit. Succulent and yummy. I just wanted to eat her up.  
       Beautiful inside and out, I saw her, felt her, and experienced her, as a complete being. I wasn’t just in love with a face. I wasn’t just in love with a body. I was in love with a person.  
       The word “partnership”, a word I had never thought much about before, took on true meaning when I thought of being with her long term. “Sharing” took on new depth, too. For the first time in my life, I wanted to share it all. Everything I had. Everything I was. With her. A big step for this bachelor of almost fifty years.
       She inspired the artist/lover in me like no woman ever had. I used to create little works of art about her, for her; short movies, songs, love letters, photos, pictures with words, computer comic book pages, that sort of thing. Some of it I shared not only with her, but with the world. I wanted the planet to know how I felt about her. Why? Well I found it incredibly romantic, first of all. Like a musician who writes a song about the love of his life and releases it for all to hear. Like a painter who paints a portrait of his beloved and hangs it in an art gallery for the world to see. What I did was my way of doing something like that. Eventually, I would have done something exactly like that.
       And, there is something stirring and timelessly adoring about expressing such love for someone to the entire world. Maybe it makes it more real. There is power and energy in such grand expression. It’s decisive and clear. I’ve done it here many times, on this very blog, with other people I love dearly; my twin brother, my niece, close friends of mine. Sharing deep and intense love on such a big scale is a declaration. There’s no turning back. It's a leap of faith, a courageous jump off of the Love Cliff. Kind of like marriage.
       I was proud to be so in love with her. I was proud of her. Those little art projects to her were like mini monuments. And those mini monuments were precursors of bigger monuments to come. I wasn’t sure exactly what those monuments would be, or how I would create them, but I knew I would. Maybe I would have built a house for us and named it after her, complete with a sign on the entrance gate, or over the front door. Maybe I would have bought us a boat, put a custom paint job to it, and named it after her. Better yet, maybe I would have created something that nobody had ever done before. Knowing me, the chance of that happening was pretty good.
       Compliments flew out of my mouth like doves at a peace festival. It felt good to tell her how much I loved the way she looked, or smelled, or felt, or tasted, or just was. And they were all sincere. It's not in me to compliment somebody falsely. Especially her. To notice her, to love what I noticed, and let her know that, was important to me. I wanted her to know what I knew. I wanted her to know I was paying attention. With words and with actions. Why keep that a secret?    
         At moments, it hurts to write about all this. But writing through pain is part of writing. Akin, methinks, to a professional linebacker playing through pain. It’s part of the package. And the best learn to not only do it, but do it well. So I’m becoming a better Emotional Linebacker. I’m becoming a better writer, when I write, and write well, through pain. I’ll take that.
       When I was with Boo, I really didn’t believe it was possible to over express the love I felt for her. There was so much in my heart that I sometimes didn’t know what to do with it. Like the uncontainable excitement of a kid on Christmas morning.
       Many times, when I looked at her, an energy from deep inside me would fire up, like the burning glow from a powerful furnace. It would radiate outward, and completely fill my body. I felt it everywhere. I would clench my fists, and my arms would start shaking, literally. The energy had to be released. I would bite my fist, in that stereotypical Italian manner, and make some sort of low guttural sound; in between a growl and a rebel yell. That action was a way of transferring the energy into something physical. But it wasn’t enough. It was merely a warm up. Suddenly, I would passionately grab her, bite her gently yet firmly somewhere on her hot little body, and then give her a big hug and a kiss. Sometimes I got carried away and bit just a little too hard. As I said, the fire burned hot.  
       The whole sequence, from looking at her to the bite, hug, and kiss, would last no more than several seconds. It was like an explosion. An explosion of passionate affection. An explosion of absolute adoration. An explosion of uncontrollable desire. An explosion of crazy love. “Exposion de l’amour fou”.  
       Over the top? Too much?.....Is there a “top” to that sort of thing? I never saw one. Never felt one. Never even thought that way. I just knew how I felt. And I wanted to share that with her. I wanted to express that to her. Powerfully. Creatively. Lovingly. Passionately. Deeply. And often.
       If that’s wrong, what the fuck does right look like?


©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.

The Spirit Can Not Be Contained

Where there is the darkness of fear, there is also the light of creativity, humor, and connection.

Giving The Finger (part 1)

       Let’s see if I’m clear enough for you to see straight into me. Let’s see if I’m a good enough artist to paint a picture so evocative that you feel it. Let’s see if I’m bright enough to shine so much light onto something that you experience it anew.     
       My challenge begs a much higher calling; to guide and empower you to see something in yourself. Something that supports you to live a bigger life. A more vibrant, expressive life. All from a silly story. A silly story? Yeah, maybe. Gotta aim high. I’ll never hit the stars aiming below the horizon.
       Here’s the story: I occasionally paint the middle finger of my left hand with fingernail polish. Why? Because it’s fun, and I like how it looks. Period. End of story. It’s that simple.
       It can attract attention, yes, but that is strictly an unavoidable by-product of doing it. I don’t do it with the attention objective. The fact is, whenever we do something unconventional, different, unique, outside the box, we will unavoidably attract attention. We will open ourselves up to criticism and judgment; even more than usual in our already highly critical and judgmental culture. 
       I don’t let what others think prevent me from painting my fingernail. I don’t let what others think prevent me from doing a lot of things. What others think, what others believe, what others say and do, however, is often what stops many of us from doing a lot of things we want to. That’s part of the human condition. It doesn’t have to be painting your nail. You have your own examples. We all do. Lots of them. Pick your poison.
       Now, despite my apparently cavalier approach, there’s a lot going on under my hood. It’s not that I don’t process the question “What will people think?” before I do something unconventional. I sometimes go through the anxiety and fear that accompanies out of the box behavior. In fact, one of my biggest fears, irrational as it may be, is that I’m going to do something so outrageous that I’ll ostracize the entire planet, in one fell swoop. That particular fear is an old tape, not rooted in reality. But it sits in my belly, and I deal with it.
        So I’m just like most of us when it comes to having the fear, the anxiety, of “What will people think?”. I just don’t let it stop me. My drive to express, to have fun, to create, to connect to those who do get me, is greater than my fear of pushing away the people who don’t get me. And greater than my caring what people think of me. David Lee Roth once said something like this: “Some people think I’m the greatest thing since sliced bread. Some people think I’m a total jackass. I must be doing something right!”.
       In part two, I’ll guide us to taming the voices that prevent us from doing certain things because we’re afraid of what people will think. I’ll guide us to liberating parts of ourselves that need a little freedom.

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.   

Risk

      To grow, we need to take risks. When we take risks, we’re out of our comfort zone. So growth is married to risk. They are lifers, with no chance whatsoever of divorce. We don’t grow inside our comfort zones. It’s just that simple.
       In relationships, if the relationship is going to grow, if each person is going to grow, both partners need to take risks with one another. Playing it too safe will slowly kill a relationship. Like little doses of arsenic that build up over time to a deadly critical mass within. 
       I’m not professing that your relationship should be one long foray into mutual uncomfortableness. That’s not a relationship. That’s bad couples therapy. What I am saying, though, is that it’s important for couples to actively support each other in taking risks with one another. If you’re both risking, and are both supporting each other, then it’s not so scary. It’s not so uncomfortable. It can even be fun. In fact, it’s supposed to be exciting, at least some of the time. You’re growing. Your partner is growing. Your relationship is growing. You're traveling and discovering and exploring new worlds, together. If that doesn’t excite you, then check your pulse. You may be emotionally flat lining.
       Where do you take risks? And where do you avoid taking risks? Some of us are adrenaline hounds, and will risk our well being or even our lives with acts of skydiving, bungee jumping, or skiing very fast. Some of us love to risk money. We will put a piece of our net worth up for grabs on a speculative stock or business deal.
       I’m not talking about the kind of foolhardy risk that borders on the absurd or the addictive. And I’m not even saying I know where that line is. It’s different for everybody. My point is, we all take risks. And we all avoid risks. The question is where do we do that?  And to what degree?
       Something to ponder.

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.

Marathon Man

       Yesterday, I was just a mile and a minute away from the horrible events at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. Quite unnerved, I suddenly stepped out of the restaurant I was in and spontaneously penned the following poem; whilst standing on the sidewalk, amidst thousands of people, all trying to comprehend what had happened.
       Here’s what suddenly struck me at Bertucci’s in Kenmore Square: In the midst of so much uncertainty, what is the point of holding back; of not taking a risk; of not fully and vibrantly expressing yourself; of not going out on that limb; of not pushing the envelope? Every fuckin’ chance you get?
       If the spark is inside you, and if death is not a possible outcome of your expressions, why hold back? Is not the potential upside for connection, understanding, enlightenment, wisdom, depth, awakening, growth, fun, joy, love, and who knows what else, worth the risk of looking bad? Worth the risk of fucking up? Worth the risk of people not getting you? Worth the risk of people not liking you?
 

In my irreverence
I pay reverence to that which truly matters

In my audacity
I seek to find my own courage

In my outrageousness
I worship that wildest of fires within you that you don’t let burn

In my bold transgressions of the conventional
I offer freedom of expression to those who seek it

In my creative dismantling of the norm
I expand the boundaries of expression

In my vulnerability
I create the space for those who desire openness
But are afraid to step nakedly into its embrace

In my wild expressions of my love for you
I seek to liberate your feelings of love for me
Of your love for yourself
Of your love for love itself

                         - Clint Piatelli
                           April 15, 2013

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, & Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.