I was talking to a lady in the audience before my show started one night, and somehow conversation turned to the subject of travel, and what a good thing it is to do if you can do it. I revealed that I had not done much of it myself. I've been as far north as Vancouver BC, as far south as San Diego, as far east as Lake Tahoe, and as far west as, well, the Pacific. She seemed surprised. A man of my age, stuck in his little Northwest box. And in all my 39 years I've moved twice, only to return to the home I grew up in. It's a small world, they say, but smaller for some than for others. And yet, I can't complain about it because I love this world I inhabit and the people with whom I share it.
I am often surprised by the people who I end up calling "friend". Often times, they're not like me at all, and it seems like it would be an oil and water type of thing. But there's different friends for different occasions. One guy I only have lunch with, and if I can do it four times a year I'm lucky, yet I consider him one of my "best" friends. Another guy I only work with creatively, so if I don't have a project, the "friendship" is in limbo, and when I hire him, it's like I'm trying to buy that friendship. Secretly, I just want to hang out with him. Would he call me a friend? I have no idea. Other friends offend me by posting anti-Christian propaganda on Facebook and it grieves me to look at it, but I also can't bear to block them because I like seeing what they're up to. Other friends, I crush on constantly but know I don't have a chance with. Other friends, I can't get involved in my interests, no matter how hard I try. My heart hurts when they don't see my show, but my head knows they're still my friends, and it's stupid to think otherwise.
I always feel like the default setting for most of my relationships with people (at least outside my family) is that I like them a lot more than they like me. So it makes sense that I'm the one who has to call or write. Sometimes it seems like I have to come up with some wild gimmick to get people's attention. "Spend an evening with me, and you could win a new car!" Okay, that's a slightly silly exaggeration but you get my point.
Yet once in a while, a person comes along who has some sort of interest in me, and I have no idea why, I don't know what I offer (it can't be physical), and of course my heart is so grateful I WANT to have a new car to give them, but I don't. Maybe I could write a song for them. But no, I haven't written songs in years. And what's the motive for this desire to give of myself? Will it ensure the indefinite continuation of the friendship? That doesn't seem likely.
I think the only conclusion that can be reached is that "it is what it is." People have to follow the path that their heart sets for them (unless they're answering to a higher calling) and my place in that path is just whatever it happens to be, no more, no less. But if they've touched my life is some meaningful (sometimes unexpected) way, I hope that I've done the same for them. Some kind of imprint.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Sunday, June 10, 2012
the reset button
"Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me." The worst thing is when you fool yourself. When you want something so badly, you'll do nearly anything to get it. Or you convince yourself that you can do something when you really can't. There's people who say, "Where there's a will, there's a way", but isn't that sometimes bullshit? And there are people who tell you to never stop dreaming, but there are some who should really just wake up for their own good. I've always been more of a dreamer than an achiever. I can talk a good game, especially to myself. Other people may not buy it, but I do. I believe what I'm dishing out, no matter how many people tell me I'm wrong.
There are two areas in my life where I have mainly fallen victim to this form of self-deception. One concerns matters of the heart, but I won't go into too much detail about that because I've already done so in a lot of previous posts. Long story short, if I like somebody, I convince myself that I can have a deep, meaningful, friendship with that person, regardless of how he (because it's always a he) feels about me. I mean, it may not be sexual, but we can be otherwise as close as two unrelated men can be. This is a lie. But the persuasive power of that lie is so strong it's nearly killed me more than once. That is, when I get the final rejection, the realization that my idea of "close intimate friendship" was just an illusion. Sometimes it takes years to figure it out.
The other area of this self-deception concerns my lifetime dream, which has been to own and operate my own theatre company. For many years, I've wanted this but it has seemed out of reach. That is because it WAS out of reach. Then one day, because somebody posts an announcement that their theater space is available for rent and at a lower price than everyone else, I got it in my head that "Maybe I can do this...maybe I can actually make this work." Of course I didn't have all the money I needed so I borrowed from my parents, thinking that since I was working, it wouldn't take too long to pay them back. This was last summer, 2011.
Well, I could not find a staff of people to work with, which meant that all the duties and responsibilities, including things I'm really not good at, like marketing and publicity, fell to me. Not only did I have to pay for everything (with loans of course), but I also had to DO everything that was possible for me to do. I mean, I couldn't act the roles and direct at the same time. I couldn't operate lights, but I operated sound. And I had to pay for services that I was not skilled enough to do myself like original music composition and photography and poster design.
The play, Mysterious Skin, didn't make any money; it lost quite a lot actually. Audiences were very small, because nobody had heard of Book of Dreams Productions and we got hardly any press at all. Some of what we did get just criticized us for being low-budget, labor-of-love people. So that put me thousands of dollars in debt and made me feel like my reputation was shot.
Then, several months later, I got the opportunity to do it again. Now, I need to clarify that my current show is a better play, better production values, better direction. I am truly satisfied with the product, but once again, we haven't had an audience. I mean we've had a couple of nights with 21 people at most, but more often, it's a lot less than that. And where there was little press for Mysterious Skin, there's been absolutely none for this show. And again, it's like nobody knows who we are and nobody cares.
You might wonder how I got the money to do this second production. Well, it's a long story and I won't go into too much detail, but the gist is that I ended up relying on huge contributions from family again, and the worst part of it is, by the time they realized they had to pay so much money, I was neck-deep in the project and it would have been extremely difficult to back out. None of this was my intention. I just never thought it through. I never wrote out the budget and crunched the numbers and figured out exactly how I was going to pull this off. I'm working, but I don't make enough to finance this. But somehow, I lied to myself, and convinced myself that I could pay for it on my own, that I would not have to ask for help. I think deep inside, I knew this was a lie, but I was so desperate to believe it, I refused to see the truth.
And the Portland theatre scene is a dog-eat-dog world. I haven't found a ton of friendly people full of goodwill and wanting to help the new guy in over his head. People pretty much just care about their own shit.
All this might sound like a giving-up speech, but it is not. Book of Dreams will continue, but there are a lot of things that I need to re-evaluate. Obviously, my parents can't bankroll my creative projects. Again, this was never my intention, but it just happened because I lied to myself. I have to be honest about where the money is going to come from. I have to become non-profit so that people can make tax-deductible donations to the company. I need to keep looking for a staff (or board, or whatever) because I'm not qualified to do EVERYTHING and make every decision on my own.
To have done these shows and not had an audience (I say that, although there's still 2 weekends left for Costa Rehab) feels like a failure, and I have certainly called myself that many times, but in reality, I think the better way to look at it is just a learning experience. I put the DREAM in front of everything else, in front of reality, in front of the people I love, so those people got hurt and lost money. It feels very much like a drug addiction. My mother actually told me that's what it seemed to her. I was addicted to the dream. But I didn't know how to carry it out in a responsible way. The ends have to justify the means. You have to have a plan. You have to be responsible. So I'm giving notice to myself. No more deception. No more putting the cart before the horse. There's a right way to do things. Pay back what you owe. Find smart people to help you activate your goals in a realistic way. And above all, be honest with yourself.
A do-over. A new beginning. Hitting the reset button. I don't know where things will go from here, but with God's grace, I will think before I act, and I will have peace of mind from now on.
There are two areas in my life where I have mainly fallen victim to this form of self-deception. One concerns matters of the heart, but I won't go into too much detail about that because I've already done so in a lot of previous posts. Long story short, if I like somebody, I convince myself that I can have a deep, meaningful, friendship with that person, regardless of how he (because it's always a he) feels about me. I mean, it may not be sexual, but we can be otherwise as close as two unrelated men can be. This is a lie. But the persuasive power of that lie is so strong it's nearly killed me more than once. That is, when I get the final rejection, the realization that my idea of "close intimate friendship" was just an illusion. Sometimes it takes years to figure it out.
The other area of this self-deception concerns my lifetime dream, which has been to own and operate my own theatre company. For many years, I've wanted this but it has seemed out of reach. That is because it WAS out of reach. Then one day, because somebody posts an announcement that their theater space is available for rent and at a lower price than everyone else, I got it in my head that "Maybe I can do this...maybe I can actually make this work." Of course I didn't have all the money I needed so I borrowed from my parents, thinking that since I was working, it wouldn't take too long to pay them back. This was last summer, 2011.
Well, I could not find a staff of people to work with, which meant that all the duties and responsibilities, including things I'm really not good at, like marketing and publicity, fell to me. Not only did I have to pay for everything (with loans of course), but I also had to DO everything that was possible for me to do. I mean, I couldn't act the roles and direct at the same time. I couldn't operate lights, but I operated sound. And I had to pay for services that I was not skilled enough to do myself like original music composition and photography and poster design.
The play, Mysterious Skin, didn't make any money; it lost quite a lot actually. Audiences were very small, because nobody had heard of Book of Dreams Productions and we got hardly any press at all. Some of what we did get just criticized us for being low-budget, labor-of-love people. So that put me thousands of dollars in debt and made me feel like my reputation was shot.
Then, several months later, I got the opportunity to do it again. Now, I need to clarify that my current show is a better play, better production values, better direction. I am truly satisfied with the product, but once again, we haven't had an audience. I mean we've had a couple of nights with 21 people at most, but more often, it's a lot less than that. And where there was little press for Mysterious Skin, there's been absolutely none for this show. And again, it's like nobody knows who we are and nobody cares.
You might wonder how I got the money to do this second production. Well, it's a long story and I won't go into too much detail, but the gist is that I ended up relying on huge contributions from family again, and the worst part of it is, by the time they realized they had to pay so much money, I was neck-deep in the project and it would have been extremely difficult to back out. None of this was my intention. I just never thought it through. I never wrote out the budget and crunched the numbers and figured out exactly how I was going to pull this off. I'm working, but I don't make enough to finance this. But somehow, I lied to myself, and convinced myself that I could pay for it on my own, that I would not have to ask for help. I think deep inside, I knew this was a lie, but I was so desperate to believe it, I refused to see the truth.
And the Portland theatre scene is a dog-eat-dog world. I haven't found a ton of friendly people full of goodwill and wanting to help the new guy in over his head. People pretty much just care about their own shit.
All this might sound like a giving-up speech, but it is not. Book of Dreams will continue, but there are a lot of things that I need to re-evaluate. Obviously, my parents can't bankroll my creative projects. Again, this was never my intention, but it just happened because I lied to myself. I have to be honest about where the money is going to come from. I have to become non-profit so that people can make tax-deductible donations to the company. I need to keep looking for a staff (or board, or whatever) because I'm not qualified to do EVERYTHING and make every decision on my own.
To have done these shows and not had an audience (I say that, although there's still 2 weekends left for Costa Rehab) feels like a failure, and I have certainly called myself that many times, but in reality, I think the better way to look at it is just a learning experience. I put the DREAM in front of everything else, in front of reality, in front of the people I love, so those people got hurt and lost money. It feels very much like a drug addiction. My mother actually told me that's what it seemed to her. I was addicted to the dream. But I didn't know how to carry it out in a responsible way. The ends have to justify the means. You have to have a plan. You have to be responsible. So I'm giving notice to myself. No more deception. No more putting the cart before the horse. There's a right way to do things. Pay back what you owe. Find smart people to help you activate your goals in a realistic way. And above all, be honest with yourself.
A do-over. A new beginning. Hitting the reset button. I don't know where things will go from here, but with God's grace, I will think before I act, and I will have peace of mind from now on.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
I get so emotional, baby...
As usual, I have to qualify my blog title. There were 2 Whitney Houston songs that I liked, and "So emotional" wasn't one of them. But the title just applies so perfectly. [Do you want to know which ones I liked? They were both from her debut: "Saving all my love for you" and "The greatest love of all". Some of the words to the latter song will make me tear up if I'm in the mood. But other times I just remember the cheesy death scene of a so-called popular singer in a soap I used to watch during which she sang a rousing, melodramatic rendition of that song, and during that last high note, a chandelier falls on her and kills her, making me laugh hysterically.]
In the seemingly endless search for meaningful connections, I found myself writing to an inmate a few years ago. I had read a book about him, and I felt for him, and I was just drawn to send him a letter. He responded several weeks later, then I wrote back. A couple years go by, and I hear nothing. But I keep checking the PO box, and writing occasionally.
Well, finally, earlier this year, I heard back from him and he seemed eager to kick this correspondence into high gear. We exchange a couple of letters. Then there's silence again. It's been like 4 months. And I start to speculate about why he stopped writing. Is it the same reason he cited before, laziness and procrastination? Or is it that he doesn't want to continue writing?
The trouble is, I have realized I have feelings for him. It's not an ideal thing. Where he is, he's going to be for a long time. Even if he felt the same way about me that I do about him (I can't decide whether to tell him), it's not like we could have a "life" together. They don't even allow gays conjugal visits. But the real problem I'm facing is, if I tell him that I have feelings for him, will he get upset and stop writing altogether? I mean, I'm already wondering if I'm going to hear from him again. But confessing my feelings could be the nail in the coffin.
Once upon a time, when I was young, I was always too shy to express much of anything. Fear ruled my decision-making process when it came to revealing things like crushes, etc. Then something happened to me. I started listening to Smashing Pumpkins and it seemed like all their songs were about having to seize the moment and do what you need to do, and say what needs to be said. All of a sudden I became bold in the expression of my feelings. When I was in love with a guy, I told him. Even if he was straight. Of course, the results were usually disastrous. I went through several years of being hurt, devastated even, because I insisted on being open with people who didn't want to hear about it. And eventually, when I hit 30 or so, I reverted back to the way I used to be. I had just been hurt enough, and I couldn't take more rejection. I lapsed a couple of times between then and now, but for the most part, I keep my feelings to myself.
So I don't know if I want to risk what this inmate and I have, which is sort of small talk, banter, current events, etc. to let him know I want to go deeper. I can imagine sleepless nights, wondering if I was going to get another letter, and if that letter would be positive or negative. Is it worth the emotional strain for a relationship that is extremely limited and problematic at best? Can't I just be happy with what I have with the guy? It's not like he's going to be able to hold me in his arms at night, which is what I really want. Well, pretending feels kind of good.
In the seemingly endless search for meaningful connections, I found myself writing to an inmate a few years ago. I had read a book about him, and I felt for him, and I was just drawn to send him a letter. He responded several weeks later, then I wrote back. A couple years go by, and I hear nothing. But I keep checking the PO box, and writing occasionally.
Well, finally, earlier this year, I heard back from him and he seemed eager to kick this correspondence into high gear. We exchange a couple of letters. Then there's silence again. It's been like 4 months. And I start to speculate about why he stopped writing. Is it the same reason he cited before, laziness and procrastination? Or is it that he doesn't want to continue writing?
The trouble is, I have realized I have feelings for him. It's not an ideal thing. Where he is, he's going to be for a long time. Even if he felt the same way about me that I do about him (I can't decide whether to tell him), it's not like we could have a "life" together. They don't even allow gays conjugal visits. But the real problem I'm facing is, if I tell him that I have feelings for him, will he get upset and stop writing altogether? I mean, I'm already wondering if I'm going to hear from him again. But confessing my feelings could be the nail in the coffin.
Once upon a time, when I was young, I was always too shy to express much of anything. Fear ruled my decision-making process when it came to revealing things like crushes, etc. Then something happened to me. I started listening to Smashing Pumpkins and it seemed like all their songs were about having to seize the moment and do what you need to do, and say what needs to be said. All of a sudden I became bold in the expression of my feelings. When I was in love with a guy, I told him. Even if he was straight. Of course, the results were usually disastrous. I went through several years of being hurt, devastated even, because I insisted on being open with people who didn't want to hear about it. And eventually, when I hit 30 or so, I reverted back to the way I used to be. I had just been hurt enough, and I couldn't take more rejection. I lapsed a couple of times between then and now, but for the most part, I keep my feelings to myself.
So I don't know if I want to risk what this inmate and I have, which is sort of small talk, banter, current events, etc. to let him know I want to go deeper. I can imagine sleepless nights, wondering if I was going to get another letter, and if that letter would be positive or negative. Is it worth the emotional strain for a relationship that is extremely limited and problematic at best? Can't I just be happy with what I have with the guy? It's not like he's going to be able to hold me in his arms at night, which is what I really want. Well, pretending feels kind of good.
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