All Posts By Owen Sader

Defense Mechanisms

Posted on 1 min read

Quarantine is so fucking predictable for me. Caught in a house with books and music I’m slipping deeper and deeper into mental introspection… And so why fight it? Maybe that’s all getting older is. Not fighting so much. Because I still feel mostly the same things I did when I was younger. I just move through them a little different.   Defense mechanisms get a bad wrap because they often mature into maladaptive adult behaviors. Things that kept you safe from pain eventually hold you back. If there’s any doubt if this is something I’ve struggled with, I wrote an entire novel (Gen Y) about the topic. So, yeah, no …

Sunday

Posted on 1 min read

After a week of chaos, the quiet of this weekend is unsettling. I don’t know if it’s getting back to Minneapolis from Denver, or that the weekend slows down the tap of news and market data, but things seem suspiciously subdued. It’s quiet. Like a normal Sunday. But this is a forced imposed quiet. Maybe that’s what I need. It doesn’t feel natural. I don’t know if I like it. And what you like isn’t always what you need. I will say it’s nice to see everyone washing their hands when they leave the bathroom for a change. …

It Starts

Posted on 1 min read

Ozo coffee shop on Pearl St. in Boulder is the quietest I’ve ever seen it. All the tables are normally overflowing, and the cacophony of conversation covers up any of the ambiance. But today, half the tables are empty and I can clearly hear Dr. Dog playing over the speakers. So this is how it starts. Whether warranted or not, the fear has become very real, even in this landlocked city. And when the fear is real, the effects are real. I’m supposed to go to Germany next week for my daughters eighth birthday. I can feel that opportunity slipping away from me. Missing another birthday. That’s real. Someone in …

Post-Something

Posted on 1 min read

South America always drew a specific crowd when I was young. If Europe was partying in city-sized museums, then South America was magic realism. And I was not that person. Now, in this half-complete decade of my life, I’ve had the opportunity to explore more of South America. It’s beyond cliché to feel existentialism yield to the mystic. And yet I have to accept that my own resonate has changed. Buenos Aires is different than my other southern excursions. People like to say that it’s the “Paris of the South”. That it’s “European”. And yeah, I guess I can see it. But if it’s reminiscent of Europe, it’s familiarity swims …

6 AM Flight

Posted on 1 min read

I don’t like morning much (too much weird energy). But I missed my flight last night. So now I’m staring out over the giant fish bowl called the North Denver security checkpoint very early in the morning. And I feel only gratitude. It’s oddly restorative watching the system whir into life: The dozen security people moving and talking as if it’s not 4:30 in the morning, the hundreds of passengers silently delegating responsibility for the infrastructure that will jettison them across the country. It’s so intricate. So precarious. I feel lucky that I got to live through a period of time where something this delicate was even possible.   …

LA

Posted on 2 min read

For a place that is so incredibly beautiful, there is something about Southern California that I find relentlessly lonely. More than New York. More than any city of Europe. I find Southern California to be a terribly isolating and ungrounded experience. Which isn’t always a bad thing. There are times when it does a world of good to be alone. I just need to expect the sensation. Rather than stumbling through it for three days, wondering why I feel so off. The irony is that on the whole I find the people in LA to be very friendly (with a few extreme exceptions). On this trip one of our servers …

2019 – Year in Review

As I near the exit on 2019, I’m doing something that I don’t normally do: reflection (historically it’s rumination or bust for me). And what I find as look at 2019, is that it might be the best year of my life. Clarification- my adult life. Ten was fucking amazing.  And so I’m forced to confront the correlation between feeling positive and the dearth of writing the past few months. Yes, I was working on the novel for the last half of the year. But that was editing, not inspiration. That was basketball practice. That was going to the gym. All work, minimal fun. I don’t know yet if it’s …

Repeat Happiness

Posted on 2 min read

I’ve had many happy moments in my life. Most of those I only realize the happiness in retrospect. In a rare few, I was aware of the love and happiness while it was happening (and I say love, because I’m not sure if my happiness ever existed without love, regardless of how perverse or alien from conventional love it might have appeared). What is rarer still, are moments of recognizable happiness that have occurred, and continue to occur.   Working from my bed at night, while my daughter sleeps next to me is that kind of happiness. And the only example that I can think of. We have a routine. …

Memories, again

Posted on 1 min read

The loss of memory is one of the most profound feelings of loss I have ever experienced. The irony is not that I didn’t expect things to fade. I knew they would leave me. I just never thought it would matter. I always thought I could replace the old with the new. However, there comes a time when you can’t do something new. And then you cling. But the nature of memories is that they’re imperfect. The details continuing to be viewed through dirtier and dirtier water. Sometimes I try to back into the details through deduction. It’s a gross and addictive exercise. That really only ends when I accept …

Sticky Notes

Music can take me back more than any other media. Or sense. Even new songs that are of a certain familiar style. It can happen very suddenly that I’m a productive member of the human race, working away diligently and with contentment in my soul, and then Spotify will switch to a song and the work drops away as I listen closely to the lyrics. An hour later, I’m in a music spiral, with the door locked and nothing to show for my time except for cheap thoughts and scribbled out sticky notes. This is one of those sticky notes. What does it mean to be fucked up? It can …