The Gallery

"Just slap anything on when you see a blank canvas staring you in the face like some imbecile. You don't know how paralyzing that is, that stare of a blank canvas is, which says to the painter, ‘You can't do a thing’. The canvas has an idiotic stare and mesmerizes some painters so much that they turn into idiots themselves. Many painters are afraid in front of the blank canvas, but the blank canvas is afraid of the real, passionate painter who dares and who has broken the spell of `you can't' once and for all." ~ Vincent Van Gogh

As much as I have been preaching to everyone I've had the chance to talk to that we need to stop looking at the past for hope, I've been guilty of not considering the potential for the future. I was good at the talk, but my heart was still distracted by how much I miss my parents, my old life, my friends, my old job, all of the music, and all of the conversations I had with the artists. I've said it before, but I really understand it now: I've been mourning this entire year. Where work used to be the active distraction that helped me cope, I've tried to find other distractions, like museums and other day trips, but I always came home to the problem, and it has made my pillow heavy at the end of the day. 

I'm writing right now to attempt to shift this paradigm, because I've been reminded lately about  how unimportant my struggles are to others, because maybe it seems like I've got it all figured out. I am taking that back. My guidance, my experience, all exist because of my struggles. I have to work against how easy it is to say that nobody cares when I encounter apathy or indifference. I vent. I have no outlet. I give up and come back to myself. I find ways to cope and turn it around. I come back to the blank page. 

It's perfectly okay to find perspective but still struggle, even when outside forces - including those closest to us - can only function when they are finding subtle ways to let you know that they are more than you, that your problems...your value doesn't matter. It's not malicious; Sometimes people use others as a foothold, a rock to keep from drowning. It's not Jack and Rose versus the floating debris in the aftermath of the Titanic. Jack is the debris, and Rose climbs on top regardless. That's why I love this journal. I see the behavior, internalize a response, and then I empty the cup here. It is my secret weapon. It’s my wall of understanding when everyone else is screaming to be noticed and admired. I just want to be understood and appreciated. 

Hence, a break from Social Media. I haven’t posted anything significant since last year. I even stopped scrolling for much of this year. I just couldn’t accept how small it all wanted me to feel in order for them to have a sense of superiority. I also couldn’t take much of the knee jerk hate any more. I also - and this is important - didn’t feel the need to announce that I was making any changes. Reasons why fall into that category: unless they ask, who cares? I kept up with strangers on Twitter and TikTok, and only addressed a handful of direct messages on Facebook and Instagram before abandoning them altogether. Full stop on most of my former activity. It felt as arrogant as writing a newsletter about my life, and volunteering a subscriber base to it. "Here are all of the incredible things that are happening for me" is the subtitle. "Here are all of my anxieties and fears that I'm sure everyone can relate to" is the unspoken part. Hashtag to the nope on that one. 

Why is the truth so uninteresting? Why is simplicity and authenticity so out of practice? Why are so many relationships so uneven, that it sometimes feels like there's no room for you, even in your own space? 

One of my mother's greatest pet peeves was when she would spend hours cooking a meal, only to have people heavily drowning or altering it with condiments or other sauces. It’s because of her that whenever I go to a restaurant and they ask me if I need something, are usually say no because I want to taste the food first. If I go to a food truck and I’m talking directly to the person that makes the food, I ask them “what do you suggest?” The last time I did that I definitely went for a ride with the meal and feel like I really experienced the best they had to offer. The practice also taught me how to watch a performer, whether it's acting, playing music, dancing, or otherwise. I learned how to watch them without shadowing my ego over whatever they were doing. I didn't "season to taste," I was able to watch what they were doing and find an appreciation for seeing them at this point in their process. 

Of course, when both parents left this reality, followed by a void where my career used to be, the ability to appreciate myself encountered a muddy, uphill climb. There's been so much noise, from the squeaky wheels to the grandstanders, and the deafening silence of all those who are no longer in the picture. After a few days of feeling uninspired and sleepless nights hoping for rest, I'm making a stand right now. I'm marking this spot in the journey, to call out my health - both physical and mental, to point at that next big thing to come into focus, and to carefully admire the masterpieces I've left on the wall. 

No, my career milestones haven't left a void. If there's anything I've learned from going to so many art museums over the past few months, is that every artist has learned how to leave the last brushstroke and move on to the next painting. Some have held onto them, thinking they had no value, and hidden them from public view. Some created under severe pressure and potentially destructive commission. My resume is full of these works of art, all framed and on display in the memories of a lot of people over the years. Audience members and artists in small theaters, restaurants, and large venues are the stories framed on my walls. 

Most of the greatest painters we celebrate weren't appreciated until after they died. I wonder if they lived as tortured souls, hoping to just use art as an escape or as therapy, but never finding acknowledgment through it. Or were they in a good frame of mind to appreciate their journey? 

I'm no master of art, nor will I ever be famous. I have done some amazing things with a blank canvas, though. I have done the thing time and time again, and will have the chance to do more, as long as I'm able to keep myself safe and together. The hope of what's to come is the thing to look for. I sincerely wish the future the best of luck for when I get there. 

The Tide Comes In

"About a week and a half ago, we were in New York, and I was on the 9th floor, and was coming down the elevator of this hotel, and this woman steps into the elevator over on the 5th floor, or whatever, we were both going down...and she was this beautiful older woman, like, she was 75 or 80, and she was just so beautiful, and she stepped in...she was real...you know those people who have lived a great life and had this amazing face, like a life well-lived...and she stepped into the elevator. I said 'I like your jacket.' She said, 'You like my jacket?' I said, 'Yeah, your jacket's great. Beautiful coat.' She said 'Thanks...that's great that you noticed that coat.' And I said 'It's beautiful.' It was like, very long, so woolen, it was too big for her, it made her look real small. It was sweet. It was like one of those classic duffel coats now, with the two buttons, like Paddington Bear. She said 'it's great that you like my jacket, you know, this jacket is really important to me.' I was like 'It's great. It looks good on you.' And she said, 'You know, I bought this jacket, and when I bought this jacket, I decided I was gonna live my life. It's amazing, this jacket, isn't it?' I said 'It's beautiful.' We got down and I helped her with her suitcase and I brought her out to the taxi, and we were getting in the taxi, and she asks ' Well, what do you do, young man?' I said, 'Well, I'm in singer in a band.'  'What is it you play?' 'Oh, I don't know, kind of folky, I suppose.' She goes 'What are you called?' I told her our name, she never heard of us...I told her about the film, she never heard of it. And so I gave her my email, and she says, 'I'd like to come hear you play music...you know, I don't know if you noticed this coat on me, because, I'll tell you something...' She kind of welled up a bit, she got emotional. She says, 'I stayed in my house for two years in my pajamas and I ate nothing but cereal. I didn't go outside my house and I saw this jacket, and I said fuck it - I'm going to live my life.' And she was getting into the taxi and said 'I don't know why I'm telling you this.' She began...she welled up a bit. She says 'My son was in the fucking building.'  And I was like 'Oh Jesus.' 'And he quit! He quit on the day before. He quit on the 10th of September, and he was going back in to get his stuff. I never spoke to him, I never managed to tell him I didn't want him to go in. I overslept, and I didn't speak with him. And I bought this coat. And you noticed it. Thank you for that.' I don't really know why I'm telling you that other than to say that it was lovely meeting this woman and it made me realize that sometimes we don't...the journey between your mind and your tongue can be so short and yet such a long distance when it comes to actually saying something that we're afraid to say to our others. So this song is about, I guess, just getting it off your chest, just...fuck...and actually, I can tell you, I don't know how the other person is going to react, but I'll tell you it's always a lot less than you think, and it's always...the weight off your shoulders is just insane. So I want to dedicate this to Lois in New York, and I hope she comes to that gig...she probably won't. It's called (If you have something to say) Say it To me Now." (Story by Glen Hansard, prefacing a song while tuning his guitar) 

 

It's been a quiet weekend. Things tend to get out of the way now that work doesn't blanket fog over everything. An old friend pops up next to me, filling in the void left by others.

C: It is your 19,647th day on Earth. If you accomplish nothing else today, and it's okay if you don't, just think about the fact that you're a year away from 20k. I know you don't celebrate birthdays, but maybe that's something you should consider. 

S: I had no idea you were keeping count. 

C: Funny thing about that number; The only one that counts is today. 

S: Makes me feel like I'm wasting the opportunity with this funk I've been in. I've tried to climb out of it, but...here, let me roll out the excuses. It's been hot. I haven't been feeling well, but it's probably due to the heat. I've felt disconnected from people. I need to lose weight. People are still bugging me regarding the job I had, and they're too lazy to actually look at my last posts about that job ending. 

C: You know you can partially blame the fact that work isn't a good distraction for you, right? This pandemic has made everything harder, and the only people it's really benefiting are taking joy rides into space. 

S: Yeah, I can rationalize all of this stuff and I've mostly been okay, but Friday was a combo that really threw me. I think I just need to get out of the house a little bit. I'm going to go out tomorrow. 

C: I think that's a good idea. Remember how many things you were curious about? Things you wanted to learn about? What's your latest count of museums you've been to? 

S: At least 13? I'm going to hope for the best and try to be present. I have to dig a little and see if there's anywhere else I need to go before things change. 

C: Seems like you're ready to go back to work.

S: I think so.

C: AND it seems like you've finally let go of going back to your old job. You know, by choice as well as the fact that they don't respond to your messages. 

S: Yeah, with time and a little perspective, I think I've come around to see that going back would be pretty terrible for my growth. Seems like the big studios are being opportunistic and making some big changes. 

C: That's great, but...this isn't their story. It's yours. Let that chapter end, for you and for them. 

S: Feels like a lot of things are ending now. 

C: The curse of living a long, eventful life. (pause) I guess...if you meet enough people and do enough things, you'll find your share of goodbyes and heartbreak will be pretty significant. 

S: I'll take it. (pause) The alternative is scary, you know? There are people out there who have been at the same job for 30 years, started a family early, so committed to that early, and nothing ever happens to them. Safe, safe, safe. Boring, I think. 

C: Do you actually think there's a route that doesn't involve as much sacrifice? Somewhere things balance out, either sooner or later. 

S: Listen, I don't have any regrets. On a daily basis I look at the things around me and wonder what other things I've sacrificed to have them. I just look at the wall of fame where I have a bunch of my big accomplishments on it, and I know that's all me. I don't question myself or worry about my longevity in a committed relationship, because...well, I'm sure you know that history isn't kind in that respect. I haven't been in a relationship yet that didn't show me the exit door the whole time. 

C: Sounds like a classic coming of age supervillain story. Except it's more...like a coming of middle age story. Is this what they call a middle age crisis? 

S: Oh no, is that what this is? I didn't think that was a thing any more. 

C: I don't think so. It's just pandemic blues. You would otherwise have work to focus on and would be okay. 

S: Middle age crisis. 

C: Hey - for what it's worth, the middle ages handed off to the Renaissance. You more than likely have some great years ahead of you. 

S: More than likely? You think I'll be able to create an iconic piece of art that will make me immortal? 

C: (checking Google) Leonardo Da Vinci began four years of work on the Mona Lisa when he was 51. Michelangelo was 72 when he was given the job of buidling/designing St. Peter's Basilica. Do I need to go on? Colonel Sanders? Reagan and Schwartzenegger switching from acting to politics? Bram Stoker and Laura Ingalls Wilder- 

S: Okay, enough of google. I get it. Can I just have a moment to sulk in this funk? 

C: Sure, sure, but maybe you should consider mentioning that to your doctor. Maybe it'll help.

S: Or maybe it'll just pass. 

C: Maybe. It could also last a long time, too, so do something, either way. 

S: I will. 

The void is familiar, almost friendly if not indifferent. It feels like the ocean washing over the beach, like the distant view of the city from thousands of feet above, like every instagram photo of someone showing you how insanely they're living their best life. This is what it feels to sit at the edge of the observable universe and wonder what else is out there. 

It is, obviously, whatever I make of it from here on. I just have to remember to keep recycling my thoughts and intentions, or else just go to sleep and hope that dreams are satisfying enough. 

Fuck it - I'm going to live my life. 

Bold as Love

Everyone who talks about independence and brags about it on social media is lying to you. I can't help seeing the brag as a beacon for validation, because the truth about independence is that it's a grind. To be your only liability, to make plans for yourself and indulge in your whims, to give all of yourself to what you do, guarantees that somewhere along the line people will detach and move past while they create their lives, build families, and maintain close friends. Your importance and relevance is fleeting; What brings us together - the common things we work for, be they art or work - is temporary and has a short memory. 

I'll give you a moment to wipe some of the deep cynicism from your eyes. I know I sound a little bitter. There are reasons. Here's a blank space to bleach that opening a bit. 

[this space left intentionally free from negative thoughts]

Throughout the long written history of my life that I have managed to keep in various versions of this journal, I have exercised curiosity and hope, turning over the topsoil and evolving with time, and trying to make sense of the windy path that I've been on. When I began, I was fresh out of high school with a crush on a cheerleader and a love for playing music. The love for music was suffocated by music teachers who grounded the process to a halt (only one had a love for expression). I gave up; It was a wash. I then pursued theater, and the journal followed me as I started to carve my own path. Little did I know that the habit of finding my own way would apply to everything: my artistic life, my work, my relationships.  

Now I am in my 50s, both parents gone and with a chapter of my career now behind me, gone are hundreds of people who mostly don't know who I am any more or how I'm doing now. They're living new stories as they build on the foundation left behind. Now I have moments where I'm nobody to a lot of people, and I won't allow myself a single moment to reminisce about the good old days. That's not who I am, and those memories are only useful to stick on the huge door that continues to be closed. 

It's a really good thing that I've been here before, having left a theater company I gave all of myself to and a job that funded it all. The span of 2007-2008 was a year spent in depression, self discovery, and a little confusion over what direction I was headed in. It was a pause before the next overture began, and what followed was an intense 12 years that built up a crescendo and then fell to silence. I have been here before. I have been someone, and then nobody, only to become someone new. I'm back to being nobody, hidden in this apartment watching the calendar days flip away as meaningful as the previous day. Saturdays are no different than Wednesdays, and holidays just come and go without any fanfare, with a few tone deaf people still focused on long weekends (what are those?) and complaining about work. 

When I get into these depressed ruts, I immediately get restless and find myself working hard to climb out. I try to look for the silver lining - are there are many - and help myself understand the unique situation I'm in. There are things I have to revisit in order to forget: the connections I had with people when I obsessed about the work and getting it right, the speculative promises to keep me in mind and bring me back into the fold, the struggle to get from week to week when I was working while trying to keep a failing relationship afloat, the feeling that sometimes the only validation I received was from the artists who were benefiting from my hustle. I also have to understand the perception that for the most part, I believe people are just waiting to see how I'm going to land and evolve, and that's a super interesting pattern I can't ignore. 

For a long time, I have referred to the exponential pattern of me taking leadership roles and expanding the scope every few years. It began with college theater, where I took on the publicity department and acting as president of the dramatic society. I was the go-to person for all things theater related. I left there and a few years later, I joined Playhouse West and became not only the technical and managing director that kept the theater company going, but also became a prolific director. I left there and went to Universal to run the entertainment program, produce events, and manage artists. Now that I feel that part is truly over, I have to trust that something new will come along. As before, I have to know that nobody but me will see potential. I also have to know that wherever I land, not everyone will be a fan and people may resist whatever I do. I used to push back or hate defeat. I'm older and wiser now. I think I've learned how to work on the big things - being in the spotlight under the pressure - and the little things - exercising a short memory and understanding how to give trust and reclaim it. It's a work in progress. 

Today I got a message that a friend of mine had died a couple of days ago. He had a difficult life after a debilitating accident, but when our paths crossed he uniquely challenged and then championed me. Through that experience I've had some lifelong friends and some amazing memories, but damn. It makes me think about the quality of my life, and what things should matter. I get caught up in disappointing moments, especially lately, and I have to allow myself the moment to feel let down. I have to really, consciously, act on letting go, regardless of what happens. Do people even realize the effect of what they do or don't do? Do they realize the message they sometimes send to me, while protecting themselves? I wanted this life, where I could be isolated and in control of my own happiness. I can't let flawed interactions spoil that.

My father was very angry towards the end of his life, holding grudges about what seemed like unimportant things. I told him many times "there's no time to invest in things like this; We might not have a lot of time left." While my father was entitled to his perception of things, my friend had every reason to be angry but didn't spend a lot of time entertaining it. He was an avid competitive diver and then suddenly he lost it all after the accident. He couldn't move his arms or legs, he couldn't breathe on his own. Think about Christopher Reeves' situation. My friend was still committed to being positive and a good friend to all. He wasn't a guy who used to do things. He was still someone to be considered, someone who could affect lives, someone who was inspired and supportive. 

And so it goes, on a day that I had plans that left me waiting and then abandoned, I had time to think about it all and hope for perspective. What was the life I've had to this point? Am I anywhere close to giving up? I spent part of the day upset, disappointed, feeling a mixture of emotions that made the afternoon feel like quicksand. I waited for hours for the day to right itself, for a distraction that was supposed to come. And then I went to a familiar place. I had to fix it myself, and let go of any conspiracy to cripple my ability to cope. 

I got dressed, motivated, and left the house to begin a new program that would train me to eventually run a 5k. I haven't run any distance on a treadmill in two years, and haven't run outside in maybe five. I started something new, because I can't hold on to anger or feelings of resentment. They're too heavy, and whatever inspires them is too temporary. 

I may be an option for some people, a useful but discarded utility, a person whose feelings never have to be considered, but I am my best option. I can never go wrong with taking care of myself. Now that I have more days behind me than I have ahead of me, I have to value this life I have the responsibility of curating. If not me, then who's going to do it? Who's going to consistently step up and pick me up, surprise me, help me before I think of asking for it? 

I'm still here. I'm still important, and valuable. I still have stories to tell and great things to do. Enjoy your intermission while it lasts, because I'm waking up with purpose tomorrow. 

We Can Be Royals

Ever since I was a child, there was BC and AD. There was a time Before Christ, and then there was a time After Dead (or, at least, that's how we were taught). Of course, as an adult I knew that AD stood for Anno Domini, or in the year of our Lord, but ever since the argument about creationism fired back up, the acronyms have changed. My modern debate about the age of the world and the universe and how we came to be was really sparked by a wine-fueled ambushed conversation about it with a born again former Hawaiian Tropic model whom I stayed with in Fresno for a weekend before going to Yosemite the day after. She thought she could use the bible to remain invincible - she used religion as a shield - and beat me in an argument. Young earth creationists believe that the Bible states the earth is only 4,000 or so years old, based on how long people have been able to write and tell stories. They believe the big bang happened on the first day and everything, including the age of distant stars, was created at once. Forget prehistory of man and formation of planets. Forget the dinosaurs and how long it takes light to travel. 

The conversation with the model never went that deep. She just kept repeating a request to show definitive proof of evolution, definitive proof of the age of things, and I argued back that there isn't much proof to explain her side of things, that yes, many fundamental things she believed in could co-exist with science without making it an us/them debate. It wasn't the only thing we argued about that weekend, the only topic she wanted to corner me on. The entire weekend was an enigma, and when I finally left early on a Sunday morning to drive back home I felt euphoric, independent, evolved. I stopped to eat breakfast and looked forward to anything that came my way. The girl became a fossil, an ideology that was buried with BC and AD, with old stories and outdated math. Old ways became just stories, and I got more confirmation seeking truth in the present than relying on old ways of thinking or tales from thousands of years ago. 

BC became BCE (Before Common Era) and AD became CE (Common Era), and I feel like we're right back to rebooting this whole thing again. 2021 is a gateway. What existed in 2019 couldn't exist in 2020, and therefore 2021 sets some new rules. Forget about nostalgia. The only currency is truth and authenticity. The only things we can really grasp are what's happening right now and the potential we have to choose our destination. That's all. The rest are just stories. 

Can we all agree to never say things like “unprecedented” and “considering everything” to offer any kind of apologies for how we feel or react to things? Honestly, there’s a long list of things we used to say that all need to go on the no fly list, but I want to address these because I’m about to say something I don’t want to apologize for. I’m doing great. On my own. And that’s okay, right? Yes! That’s awesome. I’m doing great. 

The pandemic shut everything down. It stopped careers, whole businesses permanently closed doors, and we had to watch the horror of people getting sick and losing their lives in the same space as people who denied any of it was actually happening. We’re coming out of it, and while we check our limbs and hearts and minds, the assessment I have from where I’m sitting is that I haven’t been this good in years. It almost feels rebellious, as if I have to deny any old ideas that people have of me, but I feel like it's healthy. In fact, many things have reset old triggers, and even when I revisit feelings or situations, they feel familiar but detached. Time and loss will do that to a person. And yet, I feel optimistic and in control. I hate to say that the pandemic was a necessary thing, but maybe in hindsight I see this tragic event as an important reset, at least one that I can make useful. It ended some things that I loved - in fact, some things I loved ended before it happened - but sometimes you only learn about the value of things after you've lost them. Hindsight is a fantastic tool if you don't romanticize things. 

I had a nearly five hour conversation with an old friend the other night, someone whom I've known for almost 25 years but lost touch with. Part of that conversation with her was focused on a frustration she has with people apparently not appreciating or valuing me. There was a time when I needed that validation from her; We met when I had just gotten out of an abusive relationship and remained pen pals for years before meeting in person. I used to agree with her concern and doubt myself, but now, things are different. We moved on from that part of the conversation because I firmly don't feel the need to be valued within my current circle. Everything's been blown apart and scattered. Some of the parts that have come back reflect me as I am, some of them only reflect what they need. I get that. I don't resent it. 

We went on to talk about other things, catching up, talking about some promises made in the past. It was great. It felt familiar, like every conversation I have with the one family member I'm regularly in touch with. It was the opposite of the conversation with the girl in Fresno. That's why there will be more like it, where I have never talked to the Fresno girl again. I should have known about that model anyway; She quit a play I was directing almost 2/3rds of the way through the process. I used to see people and idealize them, hoping for the best. Now I see people differently based on the situation we're in. The musicians I've worked with, we've been through some of the same experiences, had the same losses and wins, had a balance of great and bad news. But there's a spectrum. Even with family there's a spectrum. 

While I have given myself room to feel happiness, disappointment, moments of joy, I've practiced coming back to zero, because this life has built a bubble for me to create in, to be curious and adventurous, to continue learning and exploring. The pause in 2020 has just enhanced it, and I feel like my parents are cheering me on, but at the same time wondering just like my friend why I can't share that with anyone. I feel like she was talking on their behalf. 

I'm okay with that. This is the dawn of a new time, the early morning hours of a new day that stretches years, decades, a lifetime yet to be discovered. What happens to me would be of little consequence to most everyone. What happens to my immediate world, the traveling spotlight I carry with me, will make a huge difference. 

Everything is possible. 

Sanity Checks & Balances

It has now been just over a year since I heard "Have a good quarantine!" echoing towards me in the parking lot at work, and I assumed - as I always do - that things would work out somehow. I kept things positive and optimistic for the sake of the team, and even when I got the end of employment news on my birthday, no panic set in. I had been through layoffs, but somehow this one felt like a pause. My boss at the time talked about the potential for a return, something he'd repeat a few times in 2020, but never even insinuated in 2021, as he quietly replaced me while Spring started to stretch and wake up, wondering what the hell happened to the world. 

It's not lost on me that I've had attachments to places before, that I have seen endings put memories in storage to make room for new fantastic things. I think about my ex-girlfriend of 1992, whose arrival brought about a needed end to my college theater days. I hear music from my Playhouse years, and instantly I go back to the dusty, broken theaters that we packed despite janky lighting systems (in one theater we had dimmer switches and painted coffee cans with light bulbs in them). It's fitting that the last song ever played in one of my productions was "It's All In Your Mind" by Beck, but even though I left behind what I think is a legacy - a theater company and a website where there was none before - my time spent there was erased so I could evolve and grow at Universal. Now that's gone, too. 

People ask me how I am, how I'm getting along during the pandemic, and usually I just say that I'm managing my time well with a daily routine and trying to keep myself busy and engaged. That's the logical answer, you know, the one they want to hear. I mean, the truth is that I'm mostly doing fine. I have lots more good days than I have bad days. When I have a bad day - really a bad moment here and there - there is no escape from some harsh realities, and they seem to be waiting on my pillow at night, which is why I'm writing this at 3am. No, I'm not having a moment right now. I'm just looking at the thoughts in the shadows and calling them out, kind of like talking out loud to ghosts I'm convinced are there. 

The umbrella emotional state is that I constantly miss my parents. A few times a week, I'll light candles in what would amount to be a shrine, and before I go to bed, I talk to them just like the days when I'd go to their bedroom and talk to both of them in the relative darkness, the room only lit by the light in the hallway. I'd split my broken spanish with some english so both of them felt included, and then I would say good night to both of them. Hasta mañana si dios quiere. Good night old buddy. It became the ritual of me tucking them in the way they used to do with me. So I talk to them now, and I get misty eyed every time, and then I hear my mom say "don't be sad - we're fine. Be happy."

I also sometimes wrestle with the thought that the world - even the bubbles I used to be part of - continues moving, erasing history and constantly improving what's to come. That's a poetic way of saying that I assume that people forget about me when I'm gone, that my importance was only defined by the stages I represented, be it theater or music. While it wasn't true about my theater days, I think that looking at the Universal glory days as a forgotten history will help me move on, and will help the team work the problems ahead of them. I don't know what to say about the artists, but they have been resourceful and some have reinvented themselves. 

In response to some of these thoughts, I have stayed off social media, at least browsing or looking at messages. I want people to thrive during this pandemic, but some just seem obsessed with being extra at a time when I'm even less impressed or inspired by faux glamour in posts. Some of them don't even realize that while they preach messages of simplicity and humility, the posts they make are exactly the opposite. I don't make any proclamations and do what I've always done; I just let my actions tell the story, or let others speak on my behalf. It's too much right now. I have spent a year in mourning over various aspects of my life. I don't need to see extra right now. I never did, actually, and those who bragged about all of the things they got and the attention they were basking in were actually hurt in the booking process. I always leaned towards the more hungry and humble artists, because I wasn't feeding their ego. 

I talk to my sister multiple times a week for at least an hour each time. I have a friend who checks in almost daily despite her unfathomable burden with her health issues. My gaming friends have dropped down to one that I'll play a game with once or twice a week. I think that my old team has also noticed I've stopped responding to group messages, because they need to focus on new relationships and let go of hope that I'll return. This isolation has deafened me a bit to other conversations, and I know that some people are waiting for me to emerge somewhere fresh and evolve again, but I feel like I've run out of inspiration. The industry is still waiting for opportunity. I have friends who have applied to everything for the past five months and haven't gotten anywhere. 

So how am I doing? Good question. I don't know the answer. It might be too early in the morning, or late at night, to know 100% how I'm doing, or even come up with an answer other than a list of what I'm doing day-to-day. Other than a general sense of mourning, I think I'm missing purpose, and I know I'm missing exposure to inspiration. Thank God I went to New York a few times in 2019. I'm dying to go to a museum. I miss my 10,000 steps a day when I could walk and talk to different people. I really miss my 17,000 steps a day when I had entertainment to watch over. 

What in the world is ahead of me? If the pattern holds - college theater, then Playhouse West, then Universal Studios - I'm going towards something bigger. I mean, I don't want to sound greedy. So many people have that one time in their life that they did big things, and then they settle down. But I never settled down, even when I wanted to. For one reason or another, I felt the greater pull to purpose and contribution. I felt like career was meant for me to light fireworks over. I'm still in the best times of my life, though it's in a bit of a blind spot right now. 

I am going to allow myself to mourn the losses, to feel the sadness and loneliness that have become roommates, but pay no rent. Will it matter in the end if I'm gone? Probably not, because people have their own lives to maintain. Will the days I have until then matter? Judging by how much I'm aching to get my hands dirty again and obsess about this next chapter, it'll make a difference. The days, the new memories, the work will matter, and then someday I'll be an afterthought, a story about someone who cared when nobody had to. Did I ever become famous? No. But did I create things that affected people, did I help creative people do things they never thought they could do? That will be my lasting contribution. 

Age has crept up on me during this pandemic, grey hairs mingling and muscles straining as I work harder on my health. Yes, part of me has thought about the what ifs. What if this is it? Did I live a good life? I've lived a few good lives. Did I make my parents proud? Did I fulfill their American dream? I think so. I'm not completely sure. 

But I'm here, now, sitting on my bed emptying my brain so I can get a good night's rest. A year from now I'll look back on this and will wonder why I was so worried about the future with nothing on my plate. The bridge from here to there should begin with gratitude and perseverance. I once wrote while having an epiphany, that "gone are the days when I was neither here nor there, nor anywhere between the two."

I look forward to figuring it all out. 

2021 - Dawn of a new day

I love the ironic optimism at the beginning of last year, where I acknowledged a difficult road ahead but still believed I could survive and thrive through whatever was thrown my way. I really did begin the year with some momentum and promise; Cut to me walking off property in mid-March with my team at the end of the day, and hearing one of them yell to me "Happy quarantine!" The place was already deserted by the time we left, and even more so when we returned in mid-June. By the middle of summer, weekends felt busy again. 

Multiple waves of layoffs later (5 or 6? - the latest just happened this month!) we have no idea what to expect and the job market is still pretty barren. Rumor has it that some theme parks are opening in March. Reality has me looking at the stuff I can control. 

Let's look at this year's goals, following the same format as previous years. I know it's March, but in reality the first two months haven't contributed much, at least locally. 

Things to do

• Work out 6 days a week, minimum - Gyms closed last year, so I had to figure out how to stay in shape at home. Yes, I went through multiple types of workouts at different times of day, essentially planning my day like an astronaut on a long journey to another planet, but eventually the conundrum was a matter of finding a day to take a break. In hindsight, I should have been more specific as far as what kind of shape I wanted to be in because I'm heavy right now, but this is something I want to keep figuring out. 
• Sleep at least 7 hours a night - With little more on my agenda in 2020 than surviving 2020, I was able to catch up on years of sleep. Now the trick is to stay consistent and stay committed to banking those hours each night, and to prep for sleep to make sure that I'm setting myself up the best way. I know this is another recurring goal, but it's still something I need to focus on. 
• Cross that career/job finish line intelligently - The biggest riddle of 2021 is whether to return to Universal once things open up again or find a new job. Part of me doesn't want to lose all of the progress and things I've built at Universal, and I want to help all of the artists who were paused last year. Another part of me sees the value in going somewhere else and becoming more, the way I have before. True to my Libra symbol, I have to balance the best of both and make educated moves. 
• Do not let a day go undervalued - I have three affirmations that pop up as reminders on my phone every day, and I do my best to say them out loud, but I have to go one step further. I need to create a habit either every night or every following morning of calling out specific things from the day before that I'm grateful for. It could be just things that I was able to accomplish, or things I learned, but more than ever I need to understand that each day counts. 
• Study music theory - I started the study but ran into obstacles and distractions, even talked myself out of it considering I didn't know what my future would hold. After a few conversations with artists, I realize that this creative world is always going to be with me, so I need to pick up that study again. I loved what I learned so far, even if it just refreshed what I studied in college. It's time to pick it up again. 

Things to have 

• A passport - This is a running joke, year to year, but honestly I'm running out of things that I actually want/need to have. I got a lot of key stuff in the past year and still managed to pay bills. But the passport...I do feel like it's going to have a butterfly effect once we're able to travel. It really has become the holy grail of possessions, and I haven't needed it since our trips to Europe and Argentina. Where would I go first, if money wasn't an issue, and the virus was completely gone? $175 is apparently the gateway price.
• The new smart car stereo - Now that River is completely paid off, there are only a couple of issues to deal with, and this one cosmetic/functional change. I don't know how long my work commute is going to be for the second half of the year, but I may make this my welcome back to work present. $500 or so.

Things to be

• Extra vigilant with my health - I began the pandemic with the concept that, for the long run, I'd have to approach this like a lone traveller on a long trip, like a sailor or astronaut. Astronauts even have to deal with no discernible difference between day and night, and over the past 12 months, I've noticed that there's not a lot of difference between weekends and weekdays, except for the fact that trash pickup is on Thursdays and there's no mail on Sundays. What I started then and have experimented with is something I still have to work on: the daily health routine. Every day I have boxes to check off boxes for tracking food, water intake, exercise minutes, etc. There's nothing better than seeing everything checked off for the day, and I have to stay committed to it.
• Open to change - As married as I am to the romantic concept of returning to my old job and trailblazing a new dawn for everything up there, I have to be open to being reborn and redefined in a new job, even if it feels small at first. I've done it before. I can do it again. I also have to remember that the job I ended up with was not the job I was given, so anything is possible, even in a new city.
• Available to others - I have understandably been somewhat isolated, hiding in this cocoon where evolution is super slow and self-survival has slowed down to preserve energy. Other people are stuck in the same place, though, and we all still see each other as we were last defined, and that means that this optimistic, productive, positive spin I'm trying to work on may still be useful to the people I've worked with in the past. I can't hide from them. I also may not have any answers for them, but maybe together we can figure some things out.

My sincere hope is that this year, just like last year, changes the game, challenges my creativity, and begins to build a new future, one we couldn't see before. Obviously, there's nothing but unknown ahead of us and everyone's been scattered to survive in their own spaces. There's no more knowledge of us as we used to be; While some people are thriving right now and others are struggling, we can only work on the future. There's no going back.

And here's something I need to remember. When I started at Universal, nobody cared. I was the unknown, older, new guy who found enemies before I made friends. I persevered, hustled, built, and then it was all gone. Everyone was gone, and a second chance was not offered. Same story as before, in past jobs, my past in theater, my past in college. Accomplishments, intimate connections and support, all wiped away to clean the slate for something new. Some people have already forgotten, I'm sure, and some long lost sources of light have returned. As always, I may not have everything I want, but I'm pretty sure I have what I need.

2020 shut down the world. Let's make sure 2021 gives us something in exchange for that. We may not be entitled to anything more than the chance to make it right.

Goal Review: Hindsight is 2020

Approaching a review of my goals from last year, I think it was assumed that everything would be a wash. For seven months in 2020 I spent most of my time inside my apartment, only going out to forage at supermarkets for groceries and only 2-3 long drives for some escapism. So before I take on my goals for this year - mind you, it’s almost February but it feels like 2021 only started on the 20th - I want to look at what my intentions were back when I was naive and hopeful for a great year. Yes, things were breaking down economically and everything seemed fragile already, but I still had hope that I could get ahead of things and affect change. I was ready to abandon what was known and trailblaze. 

Let’s recap intentions versus reality.

Things to do

• Work out 5 times a week, minimum - Once I realized that my gym membership wasn’t going to amount to anything, I looked for other options and found a whole community working out in VR. I started as usual working out 3-4 days a week, then eventually went up to 6-7 days a week. Mission accomplished. 
• Sleep 7 hours a night - Once I stayed indoors, this was fixed right away, and I went on unbelievable streaks of 7-8 hour nights of sleep, which improved everything. Who knew? 
• Reserve a deep clean day 1x/month - So, I did a couple of deep cleans on my apartment, which was amazing, but I never left the place, so naturally some clutter started to happen as I ordered things from Amazon and had to make some living adjustments. A deep clean is overdue - I feel like there’s 2020 residue in the apartment. 
• Take a vacation - I had planned on going to Nashville, looked up tickets and lodging, but as it turns out my only vacation was a weekend in Big Bear the weekend after my birthday (and the day was laid off). It still counts. 
• Doctor Up - With hospitals overrun by COVID patients, I stayed away from doctors for the most part but I did take care of some big things in 2020. That was important. I also made it a habit of tracking my weight, temperature, blood pressure, and other things almost daily. I might even be healthier now, in quarantine, than I was during normal times. 
• Finish the book – With the future in doubt, I have wondered sometimes how valuable this book would be. It’s still there, and I organized a lot to keep it in mind. 
• Meditate twice a week – While I was employed, I did the meditation twice a week, but once I was on my own, in my own space, it completely went away. 

Things to have

• A passport - Still nothing on this. How many years have I had this on my list? Also, did it make sense to get a passport with borders closed? Nope! 

• A new personal laptop - A lot has changed with this one. In a year when I could ONLY work through my work laptop remotely, I not only finally got a macbook, I also got a gaming PC laptop! And then I turned the work laptop in, but getting TWO laptops this year was a huge win.

Things to be

• Attentive & patient - This was tested a lot with the team, but when I had a few sessions with performers, especially remote ones, I found that active listening was an exercise in learning. 
• More aggressive with career - So much to think about this one. Career stopped, industry shut down. Severance builds a bridge, but to what? As far as 2020 goes, this was checked and paused. 
• Open to changing my status - Age and isolation are really playing tricks on me here. If I could say at the beginning of 2020 that I was used to being alone and liked it, what followed tested that theory, and my reaction is still mixed. I like not having to answer to or change for anyone, but at the same time this isolation is definitely affecting my mental health. 
• A selfless and inclusive independence - I have done everything I could to be there for people during this time, even those I don’t know well. It hasn’t been easy because I’ve struggled too and haven’t asked for help, but I still follow my instincts. 

2020 wasn't a total loss, apparently. For a year that shuffled everything, took so many things away, and forced me to spend the holidays alone, I do have a lot to be grateful for:

• My health
• My family is still safe and my mother was able to pass before COVID arrived
• 12 years of work with the company has kept me safe in a severance cocoon, especially factoring in the fact that I never took vacation. That payout was also generous. 
• It was also a year of an important, quiet purge of people who not only weren't contributing to my life, they were also not contributing to reality. Or society. 
• Out of the 12 months, I worked for five on property and was paid for ten. 
• My car was paid off. As were two other things. 
• The world of virtual reality saved my sanity. Thank you, Oculus. 
• I made it to 2021. 

The last is the most important. I'm here. I made it. Now I can start working on goals for this year. More to come on that soon....