Tom Clark Photography

25 Years

25 years ago today my late partner Les died of complications related to lymphoma. It’s strange to even write about it anymore because it’s been so long; we were together 6 years and a lot of water has flowed beneath my bridges since then. It was a period of tremendous growth and excitement though and in looking back I’m reminded of how much I learned, how much fun I had and how amazing it was to make music with Les almost every day that we were together. I miss Les sometimes but I always miss the music. 

In the months and years following Les’ death I experienced such sadness that I thought I’d never be ok ever again. But 25 years later I am ok and I’ve gone on to create a life that’s rich and full of love and constantly infused with deeply satisfying pursuits. The music is gone and that left a hole that will never be filled; other things have taken its place though and I’m mostly ok with that. 

I’ve explored virtually everything I want to explore about death and Les’ death in particular. I wrote a book about our time together and it felt like that really took care of so much of what needed taking care of in my soul. I’ve talked openly and freely about him and us and my experience in all of this. At some point I realized I was happy again and that I just didn’t have much else to say. 

The anniversaries come and go but 25 years feels pretty significant; a day of gratitude for my time with a beautiful and extraordinarily gifted man who showed me how to have fun and play and dance and savor life. 

The Unbearable Lightness of Being

For seven years I lived in Backbay, a neighborhood of Newport Beach that's well known to most people who live around there. I lived alone in a comfortable two bedroom apartment across the street from the bay where the ocean breezes blew up from the bay and into my bedroom window and then out through the living room window; my reality every day of the year. It was there that I enjoyed a level of contentment and independence that I'd never known before. I think part of the happiness and lightness of that period was being so alone that there was no one to weigh in on anything I wanted to do. I did what I wanted to do whenever I wanted to do it. There was a simplicity to it even though there was always a lot of loneliness lurking in the periphery. The simplicity of doing whatever I wanted to do came with a new sense of responsibility though; if I didn't take the trash out it didn't get taken out. If I didn't pay the utility bills they didn't get paid and trouble followed. 

 

Sundays in Laguna

For seven years I lived and worked in a quiet little neighborhood in the Backbay area of Newport Beach called Santa Ana Heights. Though I call the area a quiet little neighborhood it lies directly under the flight path of the Orange County Airport. Not a problem for me though since every time a jet took off I imagined myself in it and on my way to Italy, my childhood home. It was a beautiful way to turn the noise of a jet engine into a promising fantasy that more than a few times became my reality. Perhaps one of the best parts of living in Santa Ana Heights was the fact that it took me 13 minutes to get to Laguna Beach, the legendary beach town that to this day remains one of my favorite places on earth. I have loved Laguna since I first discovered it in early 1983 and Jed and I are currently in the planning phase of making it our permanent home.

All of that is to introduce you to a series of letters that I wrote to friends about my adventures in Laguna on Sunday mornings. I never intended it to be a thing but on its own it became one. I created the domain SundaysInLaguna.com and began to gather the essays and stories into one place. As we contemplate our new life there I’m certain that these essays will likely begin again with an updated perspective on a Southern California beach town that has seen a fascinating and unstoppable evolution over the past many decades. In that light I would like to begin where my original essays left off and share with you my thoughts on what it means to be a part of that evolution. This was written on Super Bowl Sunday 2016