This is a question I’ve asked myself repeatedly lately. Where the hell are all the pictures of me at the premieres of all the projects I’ve worked on? At the film festivals? SXSW? Sundance? In front of some backdrop wearing some hella nice thing with my hair brushed and my face washed or something, I don’t know the etiquette. Oh. I don’t know anything about that entire world. Nothing! I don’t know how to put my hair in a ponytail like all the white girls on Youtube videos. That might be part of the problem. I really don’t know.
It’s a weird place, to have been in the main cast of a film with a cult following, yet to have never had to put on clothes and show up some place to represent said film. It’s weird to know projects I’ve worked on have premiered at sweet sweet showcases, but I’ve yet to.
Last year, I went to an orthopedic conference with my dorky wife, and posted this:
Wait! There is one photo that exists! Once, many years ago I got dressed and had free beverages and had so many drinks with my costar and as we took a cab to Brooklyn I became more and more sloshed and the two of us got out, and I said, “I wanted to be more graceful than this,” and vomited in the gutter. We slept on the floor of his apartment, I missed my flight, and the director of a play I was working on had only inflammatory things to mutter at me when I didn’t arrive for rehearsal that day.
A few weeks ago, I realized I have been in a slump of inactivity on the creative front. Part of what I was feeling was that I don’t currently have the power to work on any project I feel like working on. There’s a script I’ve been writing that I would love to work on in a Zach Braff-y sort of way, but I haven’t begun to research how to get a movie made. A lot of that post was fueled by my acknowledgement that I have a lot more to learn, and a fear and acceptance that most of the things I want to learn to do right now might never be done, ever. This is not to say I have a lack of committal or focus, but really that I can’t imagine a time where I am able to devote all of my hours towards certain goals I have. Many things I have an interest in demand silence, like recording music or videos. Many things I have an interest demand detachment, like writing and drawing.
As a resolution, I’ve decided to give my free hours to writing. Working on several projects simultaneously is an addiction, but it’s left me wanting, and something needs to change for change to occur. We all know this, but want to believe it isn’t true.
I’ve started working on short stories in addition to my script, and I’ve decided to commit to more posts for Pyragraph. Sometimes I just like the feel of writing words, but scribbling feels like a void. My typewriter has recently been allocated for business, which is a tragedy in itself.
I know that matter can neither be created nor destroyed, but what about our words? They’re just energy, redirected. They’re already floating around and we just have to catch them and arrange them sequentially. Anyway, I’m on it.
It’s been years since I’ve created anything. A song, a short film, even a recording of a daily observation. It’s something I used to do daily. You can find tons of created content by me in the early archives of my tumblr. Something happened in the last few years that slowed production to a halt, and I’m realizing it was a lack of confidence in myself. I was transitioning from a teenager into an adult, figuring out exactly who I was, and it turns out I am who I was before I started questioning who I was to begin with!
That being said, I have some goals. Keeping up with this site is one of them. I’ve been working on a script, and I started feeling insecure about the story I was constructing and that halted. After several conversations with myself in the shower, however, I’ve worked out the faults I was seeing and I’m going to continue writing.
I have a goal to record a short poem by a writer/director friend, Scott Fivelson. I’m going to start out with a simple vocal recording of it, and I have a loftier goal of learning a basic camera/lighting setup so I can film it. Another goal is to begin self-submitting auditions. Another goal is to finish the song I’ve been working on for the last few weeks and record it.
I’m rough around the edges, I love grainy photographs, I love keen observations, I love old books and worn furniture and gardening and the feeling of creating things, and I am working towards getting back to that. Below, I’m sharing one of my favorite film scenes. It’s from Miranda July’s “The Future,” a movie I haven’t been able to keep out of my mind for more than a couple weeks at a time. She described it as the movie of her thirties, and every day I wonder if I am drifting towards her creation.
Anyway, here goes:
Is my word of the week. I’ve spent too many days wishing I were a different sort of person. A few years ago, I started forcing myself to small talk with strangers after telling a friend he should small talk with strangers. This has resulted in zero emotional meltdowns following an audition! It’s resulted in learning the secrets of parenting from a stranger, in sitting with people I don’t know at coffeeshops, in saying “howdy” to people I will never say again but feeling like I really mean it. Hi. Hi, you. You there, we were destined to share this moment, and it’s going to be a good one.
I’m not sorry for being myself, and instead of crying, I’m laughing. Though in many other facets of my life, I am not laughing, but crying. I suppose it’s about balance.
I want to work on projects I love. I want to get excited at the lines I see on a page. I want to feel good about what I’m doing, who I’m working with, the story I am helping tell.
I’ve started writing a script. I feel that completing this will sustain my interest, will patch up my desperation long enough to hold me over til my next day on set. My insides are too big for my outsides.
Recently, I’ve been e-mailing a real-life writer, someone who is doing the thing my fingers tell me I should be doing. He is a sort of patch for another void in my life. I’ve been writing the story of me all over again, and I look forward to meeting him. I look forward to working with him.
I’m in search of people in search of something else.