Finishing the hat...

I believe it was during my first year of college when I saw "Sunday in the Park With George." My college had produced it the previous year and was resurrecting it for some theatre festival that I can't recall the name of. I sat, a wide eyed freshman, a new member of the theatre program (quite a detour from the initial comic book artist trajectory) watching the first dress rehearsal.
I hated it.
Stephen Sondheim's music was so juxtaposed to my limited knowledge of what musical theatre was. I found the music awkward... much like the first time you listen to a cd by your favorite artist and you have great expectations that aren't met.However, I was intrigued. And much like a cd you've only listened to once, it only got better the second time I watched/ listened. By the third run through of the show, I was smitten. The music certainly grew on me but more than that the storyline is what captured my heart. The story of a woman in love with an artist on the verge of greatness and her inability to reach him.

My entire childhood up through college, I was known as "the artist". It was common to hear praise of my talent... With out really understanding how lucky I was. Ironically college was such a blossoming of other aspects of who I am that some how my passions all seemed to shift. By the time I had graduated, I was more hell bent on falling in love than anything.
I moved to NYC in 2004... With a half assed notion that I was going to be an actor. The only problem was that my excitement and passion ONCE AGAIN outgrew my talent. And with out drive... Well any one knows how that goes.
I did however finally fall in love.
And out.
And in again.
And out again.
And then, as I've said before, I took time to reintroduce myself TO MYSELF and my passions. And I rediscovered that title that had been bestowed to me since... Birth.

 "Artist." 

 I had stumbled upon a love of filmography and editing and story telling and conceptualizing and styling and writing and making music. And these things all went together for me.It was invigorating and fresh and exciting. It was fulfilling in ways I had long forgotten. I was happy and beyond that, I was the source of my own happiness.

And much like the Byrds sang, " To everything, turn, turn, turn, there is a season, turn, turn, turn."

So as the inspiration began to fade... I promised myself to remain focused and hold tight to being THE ARTIST. More specifically I promised myself "no dating" for a while. Surely dating any one would through me off course once again. And I didn't want that to happen.

And that's the funny thing about life.

It was April. They say April Showers bring May flowers. And the events in my life at the time were certainly bringing a fair share of "showers". So I was feeling particularly vulnerable on one Thursday night while getting ready to close the bar. And in walked opportunity.
He was beautiful. He seemed shy. I instantly adored him.

The major problem was this: I had convinced myself that I was not only not ready to be in a relationship again, but being in a relationship would set me back... Weaken the resurrected artist inside of me.
I battled my feelings and over thought everything.
For months.

It wasn't even until the summer that I felt sure of the healthiness of the relationship I was forming. On July 2, 2012 I asked Michael to be my boyfriend. 

Michael seemed to make my life so much happier. With him in it, I was better off. At the time my arm was in a sling and Michael was a huge help in many ways. One seemingly small way was that he was able to wash places I couldn't reach. Looking back, that's a perfect metaphor for the work he was doing on my heart. It was as if he was washing away all the soot and tire marks that existed supperficially. 

And that's the thing about relationships. You scrub away at each other's barriers... that exist whether you are aware of not.

AND SUDDENLY YOU STRIKE THE BOTTOM. And there it is. The heart. Exposed. And at first it's beautiful. But when you expose your heart you leave it susceptible to any and everything.
The first time we argued... Really argued... Was awful. It reminded me of everything I didn't want to become. I remember holding onto anger for much longer than I needed to.
Any one who has been in a relationship knows what it's like to hit a patch of bumps where neither person seems to be winning. It's awful. It's daunting. It's frustrating. And more than anything... it's tiring.
Opportunity is all around us. Rarely do we seize the full potential of it. I'll speak for me alone. Rarely do I seize the full potential... take the high road... gaze optimistically.

Looking back at all the opportunities I've taken and missed out on.... the greatest remains the opportunity to fall in love. 

To love is to risk. To risk is to expose to loss or damage. 

It can get ugly when you get to the bottom of a heart. And when fear and exhaustion creep in... it can get even uglier. Being in love with some one is like holding a mirror up to yourself. And sometimes you don't much like what you see. 

This week, I didn't much care for my reflection. 

I was an asshole. 

"Sunday in the Park With George" is the tale of an artist who goes unreached. 

My story is one in which the artist realizes that love is the only thing that made any of the opportunities... large and small... captured or otherwise... worthwhile. 

Michael: Thank you for reaching the places I missed. 

#

I started a video blog months ago which was intended to chronicle my shoulder surgery. Unfortunately recovery wasn't everything I hoped it would be. As my surgeon recently explained to me, my expectations were completely unrealistic.

In the past six months, I have made several attempts at explaining my rehabilitation. Anger and frustration surfaced with each reflection. The simple truth is that I just wanted to be back to normal. I wanted to be back in shape, feeling healthy, happy, strong, and fulfilled. More often than not, I felt tired, cranky, bored, and utterly weak. And since I placed myself esteem in the hands of my reflection my self worth diminished.

I think that miracles happen every second of every day. You have to keep your eyes and heart open to them though because if they go unacknowledged life quickly becomes dull.

Today I rode to the end of Long Beach Island with my boyfriend. It was so peaceful and quiet. We talked about what amenities a vacation house would need if we ever had the money.

As I rode, I became aware of the peace that existed along the ride. And I became aware of the     pleasure that Michael's presence brought to me.

I'm stating the obvious here but the kid with the "patience" tattoo has NO PATIENCE. And over the last six months I selfishly wanted to be anywhere other than where I was.

Today there is no place on earth that I want to be other than where I am. I just wanted to take a moment to be grateful and acknowledge all the events that brought me here because I feel very lucky.

The Position of Success

A few weeks ago I dreamed that I was chatting with a group of intellectuals from the past. I remember the colors of the dream were so vibrant: hues of gold and blue. I also remember liking these gentlemen very much. One of them shared with me a few words of wisdom. In the dream, it took me a few moments to process what he said. When I awoke, it took me about ten minutes to remember his words. After pacing up and down my hallway at 3 am the words finally appeared to me:

"The position of success is not always defined by the success of your position."

What an interesting way the universe has of reminding us the things we need to be reminded about.

I had shoulder surgery over a month ago. I had, what felt like, too much time on my hands. My body felt weak and my mind felt utterly unfocused. Thoughts of "What if" inundated my mind. More often than not... the thoughts were of failure. Fear seemed to permeate much of what I thought about. And overall I just felt sorry for myself... WHICH I HATE.

It's very easy to get lost down a path where you forget who you are.

And then one day you're reminded again.

I sat yesterday in Los Angeles waiting for a bus to Santa Monica. I waited for over an hour. For some reason the time passed quickly... maybe in part because it was such a beautiful day outside. I sat thinking about my life: about my current position. I thought about my dream and the wise words of the intellectuals.

A year ago if you had told me I would be staying in a luxury hotel in Santa Monica because I was filming a charity event on the Santa Monica Pier I would have... I guess I would have been surprised. Perhaps not that surprised, as I was devoting most of my time to exploring the world of video.

None the less, it's funny the positions we wind up in.

Days before coming to The West Coast for the first time in my life (aside from a pit stop at the airport on my way to Australia) I found myself walking on the Highline in NYC. As I descended the stairs, my friend looked into the window of this giant gallery space. He asked if I wanted to check it out. I was hesitant but something inside of me said, "You have nothing to lose."

Inside the gallery, there were massive dramatic paintings with animal sculls and children yelling. There was poetry ingrained in each painting. The poems were in brail and displayed to the left of each work for those of us who could not read them.

Towards the far corner of the gallery there existed a room with only the brail poems displayed on canvases. They were spattered with fingerprints from all of the people reading them. My favorite was entitled "The Edge". Here's what it said:


On the edge of happiness I discovered freedom first. Encouraged to Flourish.


As I walked out I caught the artist's name. Roy Nachum. The Exhibit was entitled "Open your eyes."

Open your eyes.

TMI Episode 3

TMI Episode 2

TMI Episode 1.

When you're not looking...

I'm sitting at my computer with so many mixed feelings about my life this past month. 

I'm finding it hard to find the words to say what I'm feeling.

A month ago, I was content. I was quickly on my way, in my mind at least, to becoming a great director and editor. I was collaborating with creative people who challenged and inspired me. I was focused. I had my eye on the prize. 

And then I was asked out to lunch. And things changed.

I met someone who made me feel like all things are possible. Some one who I never expected to have so much in common with who literally made my heart jump out of my chest. Some one who with one look became the undoing of my content little world behind my camera.                      Some one who belonged to some one else.

I found myself in quite a pickle. 

It's as though I opened a door into my future and watched a happiness I could never have imagined unfold. A happiness that was logically never going to happen given the circumstances. My eyes beamed. And my heart raced. For a moment, I let myself believe that it was meant to be... when I knew deep down the timing was not right. With every fiber of my being I wanted desperately to walk though and fall into whatever mess ensued. Inches away from falling... I opted to shut the door. 

Sometimes when you're not looking, a gray sky will open up, even just for a brief moment, and the sun's rays will shine down. It's pure magic. 

And sometimes in life, even in a busy city like New York, it is possible to fall in love, even just for a moment. 

Sometimes impressions are lasting. Like tattoos. And today, as the tears role down my cheeks and I think of all that "could have been" I stop to take a good look at my right arm. 

I closed that door, not because I don't believe in love. Because I do believe in love. 

It's not easy for me to be patient. But when I wasn't looking the sky opened up and reminded me how blessed I am and how capable I am of feeling things I thought I couldn't feel again. 

So today, as sad as I am, I smile. Because I know that when I'm not looking... another door will open.

a dream

I'm antsy tonight.

I have to wake early tomorrow for another video shoot with the fabulous Bianca Jade. None the less I sit in my quiet apartment drinking the remnants of a bottle of red wine I bought a week ago; thinking about so much.

I had a dream a couple of weeks ago. The long short of it is that I was on a cliff over looking a gigantic pond. And with out a second thought I jumped into the pond. I was with friends that were hesitant but I ran past them and jumped anyway. It wasn't until I was in mid air that I became aware of how unlike me it was to "just jump". I quickly became aware of the situation and the possible danger that might ensue. And suddenly things occurred in slow motion. As I fell towards the abyss of water I wasn't afraid. I eventually plunged into the water and motion resumed in normal time. However, I was further towards the middle of the massive pond than I ever expected to be. It was eerily quiet. There were creatures beneath the water. I could sense them. I was now afraid and away from my friends who were safe on the cliff which from my new vantage point revealed a tunnel underneath. I swam towards the tunnel as fast as I could back to safety. As afraid as I was I would not classify this whole dream experience as a nightmare.

When I awoke I was happy.

And now in recalling the whole dream I am aware of the beautiful metaphor it revealed.

If I had never had the courage to jump off the cliff, I would have never known about the tunnel underneath.

In life, often times, if not most of the time, you never know where you'll end up. Some times you need to take risks to uncover paths you never saw before.

So why not jump?

On 30.

I can remember how happy waking up to watch cartoons in the morning use to make me. Sugary cereal, a house that smelled like home cooking, and my t.v.. That was all I needed to be fulfilled. My adolescence was such a simple beautiful time in my life; a time when working out and my own self image were the last things on my mind, while the first were late night sleep overs, video games, and laughing.

It's been a while since I really thought about how happy a child hood I had. Granted, sometimes when I reflect on my past I glorify things a bit in my head. Maybe that's a good thing.

One day you're young. You have this limited AND infinite view of the world as if you're wearing bifocals.

Then life happens.

Slowly at first... and then you blink. The next thing you know you're looking back at this tapestry that you have unknowingly woven. And it's so vast that you can only see certain parts of it.

It's interesting the things you remember and the things you forget.

My earliest memory is from behind the bars of my crib and looking at the brass hinge on my bedroom door and going back and forth between being terrified of it and then being okay. The next memory is of the corner store and barely being able to reach the door knob while my mom and neighbor were buying cigarettes. Once I grabbed hold, the door swung open and I clumsily fell onto the concrete outside where a dog began licking my head. I remember bleeding and thinking the dog was eating me. Once again I was terrified. The next memory I have is of my older brother Scott in our living room joshing me about my first day at pre school. I also remember my mom sewing me a pirate costume when I was four. I hated it and refused to wear it on Halloween. What an asshole I was even at 4. I have a hand full of memories from kindergarten involving some girl throwing up, another girl exclaiming she had a worm in her butt (she was sick with diarrhea), showing my penis to a boy while we were in time out which he was not cool with, and secretly telling a girl I had a Jem doll and her screaming it to the whole class. I was so embarrassed. Later on that girl would turn out to be a best friend and one of the reasons I loved high school so much. And even later on we would lose touch a bit and I would not attend her wedding (on accident if you can believe). Ties would be cut and then re-sewn.

Many of my early memories involve embarrassing moments like drawing a huge breasted woman in second grade and having the back left of the classroom laughing hysterically over it. That was until Mrs. Bowerline called me to her desk and had me sent to the principal's office. It was no longer funny especially as the only person in the office was my art teacher who I tried to convince I was taking her own advice when I drew the picture.... explaining that at first I was drawing a house and it wasn't going the way I wanted so "I did what you told me to do.... I made something else". I cried and she held me and rubbed my back while telling me it was okay. There are hundreds of similar memories running through my head when I think of grade school.

Then I became a teenager. I was the first person in my class to develop acne. I was about 12.

Karate. Note passing. Crushes on girls. My first experience getting drunk. Studying and not studying. Track. School dances. Balancing my time between two groups of friends.... ones that were from the private school I went to and ones that were from the local public high school. Pizza on half days. Comic books. Masturbating all the time. Baggy jeans. Baggy clothes in general. Snow days.

And then towards the end of high school my dad got sick. I had a love/ hate /mostly love relationship with my dad who thought it was funny dropping me off at school and BEEPING THE HORN EVERY TIME WHICH I BEGGED HIM NOT TO (when I was 12 years old). He tickled me, in passing, all the time which always annoyed me.

I'll never forget the first time I saw him cry. I was about 16. We had moved a hospital bed into the downstairs television room to take care of him.  He was getting very sick.  I had taught myself how to play a few songs on the piano during my spare time. And so I played them as he watched and listened sitting in his wheelchair. He cried like a baby. The gravity of that moment didn't hit me at the time but it hits me now. Looking back, I imagine all the things he must have felt in that single moment... things about the future... his son's future... a future that would never be seen. I held him in my arms, uncomfortable as it was to watch my hero break down before me. 


When he died I was more relieved than anything.

And so I guess it's not that surprising that I traveled away from home to attend college in the South. College was a time of massive self discovery, acceptance, beauty, magic, and adventure. I look back at the four years that I fell in love with acting, my straight best friend, and a city that is among the most beautiful in the world with nothing but gratitude and love.

And then I moved to NYC. I met a lot of people. I broke hearts and got mine broken.

All these different chapters only exist now in glimpses. Distant and not so distant memories. What remains of those memories are mostly feelings, a few mental snapshots, sounds, and smells. Sometimes I hear a song I haven't heard in forever and it instantly teleports me back in time. Or sometimes I smell some one's cologne and it reminds me of an x and pulls up memories long forgotten.

Nowadays, after weaving so many layers onto my life, it seems to require a little more effort to be happy.
It's seldom that I wake out of bed like a child... wide eyed and seemingly happy for no reason. Quite the contrary. More often than not my eyes feel stuck shut  dry and my first thoughts are generally how tired I am. I generally need a pot of coffee just to "function".

When I really think of it, many of the things that really make me happy today involve risk and searching. Falling in love required compromise and fighting and holding a mirror in front of my face and asking myself, "What do you want?" Finding "passion" required effort and walking down roads I didn't know I would enjoy. Many times I DIDN'T enjoy them. As you get older, the world becomes larger and you meet more people and you change more. So what you thought made you happy yesterday doesn't make you happy today. It's like I'm evolving at a quicker speed than when I was ten. And when you add the pace of a city like New York to that, it can feel overwhelming. You get people in places they never expected to be... afraid to change... in fact fighting change which ironically is inevitable. You get people that wake up and forget how lucky they are... how lucky WE are. How brief this all is.

So sometimes, I blog. To clear my thoughts. To reflect. To express gratitude. And to remind everyone how lucky we are even when we feel so unlucky.

Today, I look back at the tapestry that is my life. A tapestry three decades in the making. One in which no one will ever see the way I see it.

I'm okay with that.

And I'm in awe.

mindzabuzzin

Life takes so many unexpected turns. Things you never think could happen do.

Lately I don't feel like I have much to say and at the same time I have one million thoughts buzzing around in my head. It's as if I've kept myself so creatively busy that I get a little lost at times. I think that's part of finding out who you really are... getting lost. This is a theme that I constantly revisit in my life. I'm either doing something right or VERY wrong. Haha. My money is on very right!

Yesterday I had a shoot and I lost my temper on set. It felt awful. And looking back, had I done some things differently, like arrived sooner, I would've been calmer and more focused. But I guess this is me learning. So I will just have to make up for it in editing and the final product. I will deliver that much.

I'm beginning to understand why in movies they say when you do well in work, your personal life falls apart. Not that my personal life is falling apart but sometimes I feel swamped by my work. AND I LOVE what I do so it's okay. I also feel the pressure to produce great work for my clients... I would imagine this is an asset. But more than anything, I'm learning that balance is hard. But slowly I'm getting better at it. I sleep less and get more done in a day.... KNOCK ON WOOD. I'll probably have a week spell of wanting to sleep 24/ 7 now.

And when your focus is on great work it magically takes the pressure off romance. And I've always been a romantic but it feels a little as though that is shifting. When I saw the McQueen collection at the Met I remember reading a quote from him right as I entered about how the only way he was able to create or even be an artist was because he was a romantic. I took such solace in that thought. I thought that maybe that is my strength too; that I believe in love being THE THING that fuels us all.

I took my 75 year old aunt out to lunch on Valentines day. She gave me a card that had this written on it.... I'm sure you've heard it before but it really made sense for the first time for me:

"What if I could speak all languages of humans and of angels?
If I did not love others, I would be nothing more than a noisy gong
or a clanging cymbal.
What if I could prophesy and understand all secrets and all knowledge?
And what if I had faith that moved mountains?
I would be nothing, unless I loved others.
What if I gave away all that I owned and let myself be burned alive?
I would gain nothing unless I loved others."

Corinthians 13: 1-7

The part about faith really moves me because I spent so much of my life, especially the coming out part, understanding how important faith (the belief and reassurance even when you don't have the tangible evidence) is in life. In the list of the great things and accomplishments in my life.... loving is the greatest. That is honestly how I feel and I am grateful.

Maybe that is why it is such a new space for me to be living in... this space of being content in my work.

THAT SAID...

In the middle of all this great work, I had two coffee/ dinner dates last month. I went out of my way to approach two people separately at the gym. Perhaps that was my first mistake. Both guys were seemingly beautiful. The long short of the story is that they were at best: just okay dates. And I remember thinking, well at least I went out of my way to "try." I also remember thinking " I'm not going to reach out again. I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing and some one will reach out to me when the time is right."

Well I have sat back, content in my work, and I was recently asked out to lunch. I had the best time ever. It was so easy and amazing. Of course the cherry on the Sunday is that they are taken. But my brain cannot stop thinking about the whole experience and mostly about how easy it all was. It's stirred up so many questions inside of me.... What do you do when you meet some one who makes you feel like all things are possible and they are with some one else? Normally I bow out peacefully. But my mind is racing....

And the serendipity of it is I just downloaded a new album by the band Fun.. It lead me to a song that paints perfectly how I feel about this situation:

Out on the Town

I set all my regrets on fireCause I know I'll never take the timeTo unpack my misstepsOr call all of our friendsI figured they would take your side
I make the bed, just not that wellYour name comes up a lotWhen I talk to my momOh I think she can tell
I was out on the townSo I came to your window last nightI tried not to throw stonesBut I wanted to come insideNow I'm causing a sceneThinking you need a reason to smileOh no, what have I done?There is no one to keep me warm
So maybe I should put out the fireCall them back and borrow a box knifeSo I can learn to live with all the stupid shitI've been doing since '99
[ From: http://www.metrolyrics.com/out-on-the-town-lyrics-fun.html ]And I know I can be more cleverAnd I know I can be more strongBut I'm waiting for the dayYou'll come back and say"Hey, maybe I should change my mind"
I drink a lotI'm not sure if that's newBut these days when I wake upFrom a night I forgotI just wish that it'd never came true
I knew there'd come a dayWhen all was said and doneWhen everything I wasIs everything but goneAll my big mistakesAre bouncing off your wallThe bottles never breakThe sun will never comeSo come on let me inI will be the sunI will wake you upI am who I wasJust open up your heart
Copied from MetroLyrics.com 


Download the album!!!!! It's so good!


Sigh.

Another sigh.

And then I got asked out by some one else who I know nothing about and I agreed...

with the hope that

"at least I will try".

1:07 pm

It's January 4. 2012.

It's been a while since I blogged. To be honest I'm not sure I had much to say. I was working on multiple projects and putting all my energy into them. As a matter of fact I ended the year by giving a tribute video to my family which included photos, videos, and memories from the beginning. If I do say so myself it is beautiful and may be one of the greatest things I have ever made for many reasons. Also, I just handed off the final version of "Trilby" to the singer Mike Acerbo yesterday. He is very excited by the video we collaborated on together. I am too. It's beautiful.

So Frank: Great end to 2011. Great beginning to 2012.

When the ball dropped at midnight I was with some of my favorite people in the world dancing around like a crazy person. Having fun. I looked up at the television screen and casually said to my friend Brian, "We're in the greatest city in the world. All eyes are on us." He later told me the sentiment made him emotional... as it should in retrospect. We really are in the greatest city in the world; a city that draws greatness to itself. If this is not a shared feeling then New York is not for you. Get out.

So it's taken a few days to really get on track for the new year. I met my deadline for my latest video which will officially release at Xes on Tursday Jan 12..... at 8pm !!!!! I cleaned my entire apartment. My laundry is clean. I even went through 8 years of all my old paper work and shredded anything that could be shredded which for me was everything. Hope nothing too important was in there. :) That took A MINUTE. My favorite pair of converse have gaping holes in the soles but I'm not too bothered by it. Just can't wear them when it rains.... which I did a few days ago and now THEY SMELL SO BAD!!!!! I washed them but even so they still kinda reek. 

So it really is a fresh start for me. 

Oh I forgot to mention I'm practicing Abstinence for the time being. This is in hopes of venturing further into finding happiness. It has become very clear to me after the past two years that sex has not brought me any closer to bliss; quite the opposite in fact. Keep in mind I've been FORTUNATE enough to experience love during sex and after doing a lot of "leg work" I've come to the conclusion that making love > having sex. And to be clear, I don't find anything wrong with having a lot of sex or being a person who has many partners, because deep down we're all just trying to figure out what fuels us. We're all sluts on some level. It goes along with that age old saying "Let he among us with out sin cast the first stone." Who ever said that first... really knew what they were talking about.

So I'm starting fresh. I'm dedicating the year to spreading love, REAL LOVE, and the first person I'm spreading it to is me. 

Get into it.