I have a brief pause right now to write this - since they deemed at work that MySpace is not good for business - so I need to just get this down and then race off to work.
Well, if you know the freeway at this time of day...it's not actually racing. It's more like racing to the onramp and then parking my car on the freeway for the next hour. Yes, I should be taking the bus, but I digress.
There is so much going on right now. After just having finished the best film festival we've had in ten years (at least on the organizational side, even though half the crew were never around), I'm now standing on the hilltop of my next projects, and believe me, I'm not just talking about theatre any more. Yes, we're ramping up the rehearsals for "Shape of Things", but real life is now beginning to color the landscape.
Last night, as I sit in bed to catch up on notes for the adoption play I'm writing, I'm watching the shows I recorded and the play begins to happen. I can feel it forming, hurting in my stomach, with the loss, the confusion, the pain, and hope. I can feel it taking shape, and my obligation to it begins to grow. And then I get the email from my friend Michelle.
Years ago, when I was writing the musical, I was doing research on cancer and then I met Michelle. We knew each other before, but I caught her in a weak moment, and after spending a little time to listen to her, I found out that her brother had a severe case of colon cancer. Stage Four. We talked about what is being done medically, and then when we got past that, we talked about validating the existence of his life. She was determined to beat the cancer, and I, having just lost two friends to cancer at that time, was as supportive as I could be. We became very close friends while we worked together. The news came after she left that he had beat the cancer, and that was just...an unbelievable feeling. They had parties. I felt like we were beginning a brand new time, one in which we could finally fight it, and that if there was a chance for me to raise awareness, raise funds, now is especially the time to do it.
Last night, her email came after a long time of not hearing from her. On Monday night, the 17th of July, he lost the battle after two months of a resurgence, and I hated that cancer for fading and giving us hope again. The only great thing is that his life after beating it the first time was like a second life, when he got all the love and support that he would, in the end, need for his transition to wherever we go when we die. As much as I damn the cancer, I would love a second chance to reconnect with my family before I go.
In the end, he wins because of that second chance, and cancer can't reach him any more. It can't wither him away, it can't hurt him, it can't change the way he looks, making his family and friends suffer.
This Friday is Maxine Carnegie's birthday. She died of breast cancer shortly before I premiered my musical two years ago. I'm going to take her some flowers and ask her to watch over my friend's brother, and then I'm going to call my father and not talk about our argument a few weeks ago. It's been two weeks since I lost another friend to an auto accident, so I'm going to continue to validate my own life and not necessarily make work the main priority in my life. How will I be remembered if I only have a resume and a list of plays to leave behind?
That is the question. I'm an artist for very specific reasons, but the main reason has to be the celebration of life as we have it. There are so many distractions in this world, in this city, and it's hard to recognize where the fertile ground is. I'm going to try to pay attention, and give time to people who ask for it.
We are here for each other, not for ourselves. That's what I'm going to go on.
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