The importance of generosity has come to my attention. This includes generosity toward others as well as myself. Succinctly put, if you can't give to yourself you'll never truly give to others. Anyway I'm trying to discover any thing or experience I wanted in life but was unable to have. If I missed anything I would want to try to create that for myself. You know, be generous to little old me. At 38 I feel pretty lucky. I have lived a full life. The things I keep thinking about that I would like to give to myself are actual memories at this point. Not to imply I'm done living or there are no new experiences to have. Rather when I think about what I need or would like to experience, my mind tends to go to times when I was a kid. It was during those times I genuinely longed for experiences.

I was a kid on Neville Island, cloaked in cloud cover trapped between the west side of the Allegheny mountains and the low pressure systems coming off of Lake Erie. The second most cloudy city in the country just behind Seattle I once heard. I remember cool and damp fall days when I could sneak around trailer parks and abandoned industrial sites with new acquaintances before my parents returned from work. It's difficult to explain but low level fear, anxiety and depression hung inside each of us much like the cloud cover over the tristate area. I still have those feelings now when I return to these places in time. The feelings are comforting now, like a silent old friend.

There were bridges, piles of sand, gravel, dirt and broken concrete. The Pittsburgh of my childhood gave the feeling that a lot was happening there but somehow always behind the closed doors of a decaying factory or warehouse. Not a ghost town by any means but almost as if every thing and every one was slightly intoxicated and going through the motions. It was evident we we in a post golden age, the land scorched, stained, wild, apocalyptic.

Invasive vegetation grew up around the unused industrial sites in prehistoric proportions. The world was ours to transform within the boundaries of barbed wire fences and interstate off ramps. We built shacks for privacy, independence and entertainment. We threw rocks and broke glass, we fished and built rafts, we hung rope swings and all drank sweet tea out of the same shared carton.

When I try to imagine what it would be like to give myself everything I always wanted it would look exactly like my childhood on Neville Island in Pennsylvania.