300-pound dwarf with soap aversion and split-level humidor seeks mute supermodel neurosurgeon to keep me in pabst and pork rinds.

all right, serious now, here it is. the tools that make life work make life together work. i've done my homework, acquired lots of picks and shovels, dug around in my own personal refuse pile, dragged out and subdued what demons i could and permanently grounded the rest, and i'm down to live the relationship reality IN THIS MOMENT. woohoo! communication, intimacy, spiritual and physical and mental connection, co-creation of a multi-channel stereo boy-girl reality with an amplifier that could power an aircraft carrier. let's rock! killer hertz!

my fervent hope is that you've decided the inner path is too serious not to pay attention to. also that it's too light not to pay attention to.

now for some tangential but not unimportant shit. i play music ALL THE TIME. it's what i do. i've got a couple band projects going (trad ska, reggae/jam), i'm writing for both, i'm rehearsing with them and practicing at home. because i do not bring my work home, nor have any youngsters to weed, water and fertilize, i have time for this AND to pursue a relationship. i hope you do too.

one dog; two cats; one mortgage; 30 or so drums, xylophones, keyboards, amps, didgeridoos and assorted instruments; 16 years at my job and (thank goodness) counting.

my next big goal is figuring out a way to make a living from music, and how to use it for healing. give a lil sumpin back to the world. i've seen a few modalities for that, but not one that really jolted my hypothalamus, so the search continues.

here's what i'm looking for: a really smart, emotionally sophisticated lover of life, who puts art way, way ahead of commerce, and who has a big helping of patience and tolerance. i've been known to have my moods, sleep deprivation makes me cranky as hell and i can be passionate about things to a fault (music, discussion, fairness, sex, etc.). i hope you don't depend on clues, hints and indirectness because i do not speak that language. i used to be a gym rat. now i'm not. it's ok if you're not too, but i hope you look like one, at least when i'm squinting. ;)

a few more random bits: creative field, knowledge of pressure points, reinhardt, magritte, bach, stirling, b-3, hamachi. you: direct communicator, animal lover, myth-free, own-wave feminism, locrian mode, hynde, molecule or two of healthy outrage.

five necessities for dealing with a lady realtor:

1. wallet chain
2. antivenin
3. established escape route
4. witnesses
5. live ammo

whew. geez. anybody else feel like this is chain gang labor? gotta go towel off now.

something with movement. walking, dancing as long as it's not to crushingly loud music. i like to hear what you have to say, and i've found that movement stimulates conversation. if you have a dog, i'll get mine and we'll walk em. art galleries or museums are good; there's walking and lots of stuff to talk about.