In High School I began telling people that my dream job would be taking over for David Letterman.
Yesterday the announcement came that he was officially retiring and thoughts of my old goal bubbled up. Sometimes it's hard to know what one actually wants NOW as so often I feel we are living out a desire that we once had in the past. We set out to do something, time passes and we eventually accomplish said goal. We enjoy the swelling sense of accomplishment and say, "I did it!"
And then it's over and we're left again to ruminate on the human condition, whether or not it's even real, and as we think, again we ask ourselves, "What do I want to do now?"
What a luxury to spend our time so sure that our resources are locked down, that we can just spend our "time" thinking about what we want to do. Groceries are in the fridge, water comes magically flowing out of many locations in my small apartment. I'm comfortably sheltered. So, NOW what do I want to do. Something fun. I want to have fun. Have a good time!
As I get older, the play is only truly valued if I have worked to earn it. When I know I have something I should be working on, its harder for me to enjoy play. This isn't just tasks, but areas of my life which I want to improve. When I'm not addressing those things, it no longer makes sense to go out and have a blast because, I know that whatever I'm doing, I'm still not doing the thing that is nagging at me. In addition, I enjoy working more than ever. I am working on projects that are fulfilling and empowering...
The David Letterman gig. Let's say I have the opportunity to take over the show...would I want to do it? When I texted my dad he playfully suggested that I "send in my reel," though I know he is actually serious.
As I think on it NOW, I don't think that is my current desire. Perhaps in the same neighborhood, but I've since become addicted to making visions become reality with my best friends.
I would only want to take on the role if I could make the show a collaboration with my creative genius friends. THAT is my goal NOW: to build a creative production house along the lines of Warhol's Factory that has relationships with sustainable businesses. Creating multimedia, TV Shows, Films and Live Events that are sponsored by the companies that are trying to do it better. Basically, I'm trying to make an honest living.
In my mind's eye I am working with these brilliant minds around me to create elaborate dance pieces that are a spectacle of light moving through space, all at once visually stunning and deliciously overwhelming, then suddenly silly. As people are sucked into another dimension, Pull out the plug! Reveal the vulnerable truth that we have no fucking clue what we're doing, and then zoom out! We're on a space rock! Still! And that makes it funny...we've spent our time and effort and labor making this thing, this absurd, magical thing and we're fucking hurtling through space right now on a planet that by the grace of IT has not been struck by an asteroid in recent history, allowing us to exist so that we can...create this weird, silly, playful thing! Now THAT is a fucking laugh!
I don't think this is what CBS is envisioning for the future of their Late Night programming. And I'm sure someone else will be excited to take over a job that pays well, with huge exposure and tells nightly light-hearted socio-political jokes.
I'd rather play out here on the edge of infinity. It's more fun.
xoxo,
M
Friday, April 4, 2014
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Birthday Thanks
These birthdays are coming faster and faster. It's like the laps around the sun are getting shorter, though I'm as sure as I can be that they're not. (at this point I'm not too sure about anything)
Today I've been fortunate to receive loving words from many of my favorite humans...it has made me feel quite loved and appreciated. Though the thought dawned on me as each message came in, "I ought to be thanking this person for making my life worth living."
It seems silly that on a birthday I should sit and collect affirmations and love from the very people I am lucky to know. In addition, if there are any qualities that you enjoy about me, they are certainly stolen. I happen to know humans that I consider to be the greatest on planet earth. (I may not know all of us humans, but I feel strongly that I am in an exceptional community.) And it is from these people, whom I have admired, that I have adopted the traits I appreciate, sometimes consciously, sometimes not.
I am quite literally the result of hours and hours spent with all of you. You have shaped and molded me, taught me what love, friendship and play feels like. I have learned what honor and discipline look like, and am in the process of finding those qualities for myself so I can be more like you. That I might in some way repay your kindness.
A human will, if they are lucky, at some point come to that splendid and heartbreaking question, 'To be, or not to be?' And as I've thought on this in my life...I cannot help but desire more time and space with these wonderful people I call friends. I am compelled to be with you, to create with you. There are hundreds, thousands of ideas for projects that I want to make with you, because you are magic people. And because making things is magic. And so, you all are the reason I desire to keep living, so that I can learn with you and play and laugh at the great cosmic joke of it all, with you. In fact, you're all so wonderful that you make the challenges, pain, hurt and struggle all worth it...
I am passionately curious to learn more about existence and what may be possible for us beings.
That I have made it around the sun again is a testament to the countless people who have contributed to my life. My parents who sacrificed so much to give me an abundant life full of opportunity, and my many teachers who invested energy and time and care in me...Every friend I've ever had...And as I've realized recently how absurd it is to say that "I" have done anything...the infinite number of animals and creatures and evolution of life that has led to consciousness somehow taking form in this body, which is "me."
I have done nothing alone, and I would be foolish to ever claim such a thing. IF I have ever done anything, it has been with the help of you. Thanks for inspiring me to live, to be a better version of myself today than I was yesterday. You people make me want to take laps around this Earth until it is thrashed by an asteroid or burned by the sun. Whichever comes first.
With thanks and love I am humbly yours,
Mitch
Today I've been fortunate to receive loving words from many of my favorite humans...it has made me feel quite loved and appreciated. Though the thought dawned on me as each message came in, "I ought to be thanking this person for making my life worth living."
It seems silly that on a birthday I should sit and collect affirmations and love from the very people I am lucky to know. In addition, if there are any qualities that you enjoy about me, they are certainly stolen. I happen to know humans that I consider to be the greatest on planet earth. (I may not know all of us humans, but I feel strongly that I am in an exceptional community.) And it is from these people, whom I have admired, that I have adopted the traits I appreciate, sometimes consciously, sometimes not.
I am quite literally the result of hours and hours spent with all of you. You have shaped and molded me, taught me what love, friendship and play feels like. I have learned what honor and discipline look like, and am in the process of finding those qualities for myself so I can be more like you. That I might in some way repay your kindness.
A human will, if they are lucky, at some point come to that splendid and heartbreaking question, 'To be, or not to be?' And as I've thought on this in my life...I cannot help but desire more time and space with these wonderful people I call friends. I am compelled to be with you, to create with you. There are hundreds, thousands of ideas for projects that I want to make with you, because you are magic people. And because making things is magic. And so, you all are the reason I desire to keep living, so that I can learn with you and play and laugh at the great cosmic joke of it all, with you. In fact, you're all so wonderful that you make the challenges, pain, hurt and struggle all worth it...
I am passionately curious to learn more about existence and what may be possible for us beings.
That I have made it around the sun again is a testament to the countless people who have contributed to my life. My parents who sacrificed so much to give me an abundant life full of opportunity, and my many teachers who invested energy and time and care in me...Every friend I've ever had...And as I've realized recently how absurd it is to say that "I" have done anything...the infinite number of animals and creatures and evolution of life that has led to consciousness somehow taking form in this body, which is "me."
I have done nothing alone, and I would be foolish to ever claim such a thing. IF I have ever done anything, it has been with the help of you. Thanks for inspiring me to live, to be a better version of myself today than I was yesterday. You people make me want to take laps around this Earth until it is thrashed by an asteroid or burned by the sun. Whichever comes first.
With thanks and love I am humbly yours,
Mitch
Sunday, September 19, 2010
This Magic Moment
...and then sometimes IT happens. That magic moment on the train that has you thanking every deity mankind has ever worshiped for public transportation...The overwhelming, multi-sensory experience where you knowfeel, with every ounce of your being, you are EXACTLY where you are supposed to be...
Cue Synchronicity in NYC...
I noticed her as I sat down next to Greg on the G train, and I was pretty sure he saw her too...she is not the kind of girl that walks into a public place unnoticed, beautiful curly hair, long with a light blonde streak just catching the eye...her energy was warm and light...she had a subtle smile on her face, carried purple calla lillies, and bobbed her head to the music playing on her ipod...
I enjoyed her presence, and was feeling high...I smiled and made eye contact, she smiled back and quickly looked away...flash of blood in the veins, just that moment was enough to send the body into 2nd gear...my mind and body so closely tied, my mind wondered if we would meet eyes again, hoped we would...I looked back down at my book and glanced back to see if she would return my gaze...she wouldn't, but her head bobbing grew to a point of near head-dancing, probably a beat dropping...
...I looked back again and she was writing in a journal...cool, i dig that...feeling good, curious, and bold...I'm gonna do it...
flip to the back of my book and there is a blank page, I pull out my only a pen, a pink highlighter, and write my message large enough to read from across the aisle.
WHO ARE YOU?
...As I flash my makeshift sign at her, she holds up a piece of paper, cocks her head to the side with a smile that says she is holding the answer to my question...
and the body kicks it up a notch, breath a bit shorter, blood pressure rises...excitement, giddy like a child, with a major confidence boost, all of the sudden I can do no wrong...she hands me the note, it reads:
Haley
(phone number)
(address)
come to a
party tonight
at my place
love your hair.
...feeling high and mighty, any self-conscious doubts have vanished...quickly I scribble down a response, hardly legible I am sure, totally disconnected thoughts of appreciation and excitement...I look up and she is about to get off on the next stop, I hand her the note unfinished and after she reads it, hands me one of her flowers...
amazing.
frozen a bit, stunned...I pause taking in this moment, looking around me - the faces - realizing that many of these people just watched this exchange unfold...
"Wow." this is how I start my monologue to the train...then continued to ramble on about how amazing New York City is, that this kind of thing can only happen in a city like this...I thank everyone in the vicinity for being a part of the experience, I am telling them how beautiful they are, that we are creating a vortex of positive energy right here...
smiles appear everywhere, I am making eye contact with many, and folks are returning my smile...I am not being treated like a crazy person, in fact people seem to be enchanted by my words...more reflecting out loud about how beautiful it is to be through with a work week on a friday evening, each of us with the whole weekend ahead full of who knows what kind of magic...
then the singing starts...for my first tune, an improvised love song, delivered mostly to the woman sitting next to me who was very excited by the whole ordeal...you could tell she was the kind of woman who loved love, watched strictly romantic comedies and dabbled in romance novels...
I was prompted to continue my lover's soliloquy as people laughed and enjoyed my outburst, one woman said good bye as she left, Greg told her we loved her, and she said she loved us too...I moved on to the classic song, "Cheek to Cheek"
Greg joined me as we sang our hearts out to the urbanites on our train, our temporary tribe...spreading the good vibes we laughed and got more and more lost in the fun we were having, the zen lunatics in heaven looking down upon us and smiling and laughing too...I supposed..
Exit the train, "We should all do this again next week, seriously...let's all get on this same train next friday, this is great!" And back to the singing..."Heaven, I'm in heaven...and my heart beats so, that I can hardly speak..."
the train passes, it's noisy departure making it hard for me to hear my own beautiful melody, but as it quiets I hear more music ahead and search for the source...Greg stands near two old hippies sitting with a banjo and drum...and singing the very same chorus...
Hallelujah! I hoot and holler, coming right up to these guys to sing the last words with them..."And I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek!" ...Greg and I dance and sing in utter amazement and gratitude...now THAT is real...
the flow of events leading to that moment, the natural high and feeling of all the pieces being in place, leading to the catharsis of singing an old Irving Berlin tune with hippies on the subway platform...that, in my reality, is perfect...I cannot ask for more than that...
and yet, I do...because that moment has passed, it exists now only as a memory...perhaps in another universe it plays over and over, but here and now, in this life I am in a new moment...sitting on the couch again in Brooklyn recalling my joy, sharing it with you...
Cue Synchronicity in NYC...
I noticed her as I sat down next to Greg on the G train, and I was pretty sure he saw her too...she is not the kind of girl that walks into a public place unnoticed, beautiful curly hair, long with a light blonde streak just catching the eye...her energy was warm and light...she had a subtle smile on her face, carried purple calla lillies, and bobbed her head to the music playing on her ipod...
I enjoyed her presence, and was feeling high...I smiled and made eye contact, she smiled back and quickly looked away...flash of blood in the veins, just that moment was enough to send the body into 2nd gear...my mind and body so closely tied, my mind wondered if we would meet eyes again, hoped we would...I looked back down at my book and glanced back to see if she would return my gaze...she wouldn't, but her head bobbing grew to a point of near head-dancing, probably a beat dropping...
...I looked back again and she was writing in a journal...cool, i dig that...feeling good, curious, and bold...I'm gonna do it...
flip to the back of my book and there is a blank page, I pull out my only a pen, a pink highlighter, and write my message large enough to read from across the aisle.
WHO ARE YOU?
...As I flash my makeshift sign at her, she holds up a piece of paper, cocks her head to the side with a smile that says she is holding the answer to my question...
and the body kicks it up a notch, breath a bit shorter, blood pressure rises...excitement, giddy like a child, with a major confidence boost, all of the sudden I can do no wrong...she hands me the note, it reads:
Haley
(phone number)
(address)
come to a
party tonight
at my place
love your hair.
...feeling high and mighty, any self-conscious doubts have vanished...quickly I scribble down a response, hardly legible I am sure, totally disconnected thoughts of appreciation and excitement...I look up and she is about to get off on the next stop, I hand her the note unfinished and after she reads it, hands me one of her flowers...
amazing.
frozen a bit, stunned...I pause taking in this moment, looking around me - the faces - realizing that many of these people just watched this exchange unfold...
"Wow." this is how I start my monologue to the train...then continued to ramble on about how amazing New York City is, that this kind of thing can only happen in a city like this...I thank everyone in the vicinity for being a part of the experience, I am telling them how beautiful they are, that we are creating a vortex of positive energy right here...
smiles appear everywhere, I am making eye contact with many, and folks are returning my smile...I am not being treated like a crazy person, in fact people seem to be enchanted by my words...more reflecting out loud about how beautiful it is to be through with a work week on a friday evening, each of us with the whole weekend ahead full of who knows what kind of magic...
then the singing starts...for my first tune, an improvised love song, delivered mostly to the woman sitting next to me who was very excited by the whole ordeal...you could tell she was the kind of woman who loved love, watched strictly romantic comedies and dabbled in romance novels...
I was prompted to continue my lover's soliloquy as people laughed and enjoyed my outburst, one woman said good bye as she left, Greg told her we loved her, and she said she loved us too...I moved on to the classic song, "Cheek to Cheek"
Greg joined me as we sang our hearts out to the urbanites on our train, our temporary tribe...spreading the good vibes we laughed and got more and more lost in the fun we were having, the zen lunatics in heaven looking down upon us and smiling and laughing too...I supposed..
Exit the train, "We should all do this again next week, seriously...let's all get on this same train next friday, this is great!" And back to the singing..."Heaven, I'm in heaven...and my heart beats so, that I can hardly speak..."
the train passes, it's noisy departure making it hard for me to hear my own beautiful melody, but as it quiets I hear more music ahead and search for the source...Greg stands near two old hippies sitting with a banjo and drum...and singing the very same chorus...
Hallelujah! I hoot and holler, coming right up to these guys to sing the last words with them..."And I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek!" ...Greg and I dance and sing in utter amazement and gratitude...now THAT is real...
the flow of events leading to that moment, the natural high and feeling of all the pieces being in place, leading to the catharsis of singing an old Irving Berlin tune with hippies on the subway platform...that, in my reality, is perfect...I cannot ask for more than that...
and yet, I do...because that moment has passed, it exists now only as a memory...perhaps in another universe it plays over and over, but here and now, in this life I am in a new moment...sitting on the couch again in Brooklyn recalling my joy, sharing it with you...
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
the real life heebie jeebies
how can i explain what just happened?
first you should know that i am feeling more grounded than i usually do in this city, i am fresh back from the high of the burning west coast, not yet hurrying to catch up with everyone pacing up and down the avenues...there is a calm in my body, a knowing, perhaps assisted by the current guru's voice...affirming and guiding me through the streets of new york city by way of the ipod, i am present, or strive to be.
I am on the L train, I know this, put it into storage as I close my eyes and let the reality of his words sink in, allowing my moment to extend beyond the walls of the train, i step back from the cycle and into yes.
occasionally I open my eyes. check. where am I? I knew it, but fear made me check..what if I got so lost in the other reality that I missed my stop? as if that is "bad" or "wrong"...ah, whew, First Ave...still good...who is that? my eyes see something strange, unique, interesting, it is peacock theory in action...
immediately my mind begins tearing down the information that my eyes pass over, short jean shorts, so short they expose the off-white pockets -she's trendy- her pale skinny legs and over-sized shirt lead me to place her in the Lower East Side Compartment, but wait those eyes...what is that? the mind breaks it down again, taking what was initially a whole being, mystical and inexplicable, and putting her in a box one accessory at a time...her eye make-up is heavy and dark, the liner extends out from her eye in a small swoosh, reminiscent of our pop culture image of cleopatra, only darker...what is she reading?...
For reasons I cannot explain I have an impulse to catch her eye...she is not altogether very attractive, nor really my type, but I am compelled to make contact...I am in a zone for sure, feeling confident in myself and my knowledge that we are all connected, all made of the same stardust...woah...nearly immediately after desiring to catch her eye, she looks back at me...stillness...I hold...she holds...I hold...
...there is some kind of energy exchange happening, no words but each of us checking to see if the other is still with us...fear creeps in, this is not normal social behavior and the mind doesn't know how to respond...it is the very thing I desired, but I don't know what is supposed to happen next...her eyes are intense, there is not a hint of a smile, I try to crack a little of mine, just small enough for her to follow me, that we may both end up smiling and laughing at this beautiful moment on the subway...no returned smile, I give a little more, thinking she may have not noticed...still no smile...she is staring hard and deep into me...I keep holding and start laughing, perhaps from nerves, but I am still feeling calm, though unsure of what her intention is...it is so rare to hold a stranger's gaze, even that of our loved dear ones, I assume she is on some similar level of thinking...that she is also curious...but as more time passes, I feel a dark presence...I cannot describe it, but I feel there may be some ill will...we are NOT in the same boat...this is NOT someone who does a lot of smiling...
She lowers her eyes and returns her head towards her book...I am left perplexed...still calm, even more curious...the human urge is to look back...but for some reason I know not to..I don't want to alarm her, and I know that what just transpired has passed.
The next stop arrives. I stay on. I check, she too stays on...The next stop is mine...I wonder if we will both leave together, if our experience is to continue in some way...
We exit, through different doors, but both towards the union/metropolitan exit...I am not following her with my eyes, but keeping her in my awareness...she chooses the exit on the opposite side of the street...again I wonder will i see her again? I keep my pace up the stairs and as soon as I am back above ground, turn my head to see if she is walking in my direction. Yes.
Excitement returns...more non-verbal play with a stranger...so much curiosity, her darkness is magnetic...I pick up my pace so that she might notice me on the other side of the street. I am egocentric, so I assume she too is left wondering about me and our exchange of energy...I think back to exercises I have tried on the playa, I send pull energy her way, I ask her to come to me...I keep walking and notice that I will barely catch up to her, so I let it go...I assume that all is done and my mind moves on to other thoughts, reflecting on a beautiful dinner with a dear friend, a true light in my life, an incredibly thoughtful man who is on his way to greatness. I am feeling so much gratitude--WHAM!
There she is. I nearly stop in my tracks as I had forgotten about her and had not noticed her cross the middle of the street and come striding up right next to me. After an abrupt scare I return her eye-contact as she is staring at me. I smile almost immediately, first in pleasant disbelief, then surely from nerves...we lock eyes, though in different energies...she is feeling more dark, her stare is abrasive...a few paces and she walks just ahead of me, no words...I laugh again at the strangeness...we cross the street and I drift to the left, towards my home and she stays the course...I call out to her playfully, "bye bye!"
no response. just darkness. I walk on, my skin crawls a bit and i find myself peeking over my shoulder to see if she has indeed come to follow me...I question her intent...my mind wanders trying to explain this mystery...darkness, was this some demon woman? my logical brain kicks in and sees her actions as her complex social walls...perhaps she felt intruded upon by my initial gaze, and sought to scare me back off her premises...
it worked.
i did not feel safe until i had stepped foot in my apartment and locked my door. and still her image haunts my mind...
first you should know that i am feeling more grounded than i usually do in this city, i am fresh back from the high of the burning west coast, not yet hurrying to catch up with everyone pacing up and down the avenues...there is a calm in my body, a knowing, perhaps assisted by the current guru's voice...affirming and guiding me through the streets of new york city by way of the ipod, i am present, or strive to be.
I am on the L train, I know this, put it into storage as I close my eyes and let the reality of his words sink in, allowing my moment to extend beyond the walls of the train, i step back from the cycle and into yes.
occasionally I open my eyes. check. where am I? I knew it, but fear made me check..what if I got so lost in the other reality that I missed my stop? as if that is "bad" or "wrong"...ah, whew, First Ave...still good...who is that? my eyes see something strange, unique, interesting, it is peacock theory in action...
immediately my mind begins tearing down the information that my eyes pass over, short jean shorts, so short they expose the off-white pockets -she's trendy- her pale skinny legs and over-sized shirt lead me to place her in the Lower East Side Compartment, but wait those eyes...what is that? the mind breaks it down again, taking what was initially a whole being, mystical and inexplicable, and putting her in a box one accessory at a time...her eye make-up is heavy and dark, the liner extends out from her eye in a small swoosh, reminiscent of our pop culture image of cleopatra, only darker...what is she reading?...
For reasons I cannot explain I have an impulse to catch her eye...she is not altogether very attractive, nor really my type, but I am compelled to make contact...I am in a zone for sure, feeling confident in myself and my knowledge that we are all connected, all made of the same stardust...woah...nearly immediately after desiring to catch her eye, she looks back at me...stillness...I hold...she holds...I hold...
...there is some kind of energy exchange happening, no words but each of us checking to see if the other is still with us...fear creeps in, this is not normal social behavior and the mind doesn't know how to respond...it is the very thing I desired, but I don't know what is supposed to happen next...her eyes are intense, there is not a hint of a smile, I try to crack a little of mine, just small enough for her to follow me, that we may both end up smiling and laughing at this beautiful moment on the subway...no returned smile, I give a little more, thinking she may have not noticed...still no smile...she is staring hard and deep into me...I keep holding and start laughing, perhaps from nerves, but I am still feeling calm, though unsure of what her intention is...it is so rare to hold a stranger's gaze, even that of our loved dear ones, I assume she is on some similar level of thinking...that she is also curious...but as more time passes, I feel a dark presence...I cannot describe it, but I feel there may be some ill will...we are NOT in the same boat...this is NOT someone who does a lot of smiling...
She lowers her eyes and returns her head towards her book...I am left perplexed...still calm, even more curious...the human urge is to look back...but for some reason I know not to..I don't want to alarm her, and I know that what just transpired has passed.
The next stop arrives. I stay on. I check, she too stays on...The next stop is mine...I wonder if we will both leave together, if our experience is to continue in some way...
We exit, through different doors, but both towards the union/metropolitan exit...I am not following her with my eyes, but keeping her in my awareness...she chooses the exit on the opposite side of the street...again I wonder will i see her again? I keep my pace up the stairs and as soon as I am back above ground, turn my head to see if she is walking in my direction. Yes.
Excitement returns...more non-verbal play with a stranger...so much curiosity, her darkness is magnetic...I pick up my pace so that she might notice me on the other side of the street. I am egocentric, so I assume she too is left wondering about me and our exchange of energy...I think back to exercises I have tried on the playa, I send pull energy her way, I ask her to come to me...I keep walking and notice that I will barely catch up to her, so I let it go...I assume that all is done and my mind moves on to other thoughts, reflecting on a beautiful dinner with a dear friend, a true light in my life, an incredibly thoughtful man who is on his way to greatness. I am feeling so much gratitude--WHAM!
There she is. I nearly stop in my tracks as I had forgotten about her and had not noticed her cross the middle of the street and come striding up right next to me. After an abrupt scare I return her eye-contact as she is staring at me. I smile almost immediately, first in pleasant disbelief, then surely from nerves...we lock eyes, though in different energies...she is feeling more dark, her stare is abrasive...a few paces and she walks just ahead of me, no words...I laugh again at the strangeness...we cross the street and I drift to the left, towards my home and she stays the course...I call out to her playfully, "bye bye!"
no response. just darkness. I walk on, my skin crawls a bit and i find myself peeking over my shoulder to see if she has indeed come to follow me...I question her intent...my mind wanders trying to explain this mystery...darkness, was this some demon woman? my logical brain kicks in and sees her actions as her complex social walls...perhaps she felt intruded upon by my initial gaze, and sought to scare me back off her premises...
it worked.
i did not feel safe until i had stepped foot in my apartment and locked my door. and still her image haunts my mind...
Thursday, February 11, 2010
(Punchline Here)
I'm learning to be more patient at these things...not letting folks rattle me, and in general becoming more numb to the situation. Definitely less nerves. Of course it helps to be surrounded by a group of actual friends. Not "new audition friends," but people I have known and worked with for years.
So with Deidre, Katherine, John and Eric, UC Irvine had a little alumni reunion in halls of Pearl Studios. We were not all there for the same show, but to have a home base where people could leave and come back was very nice. It was actually kinda like when we travel out onto the playa at Burning Man. A fortress of backpacks. thinking on it now, these people are the creme of the crop from my time at Irvine, people who I had tremendous joy spending time with, lots of memories with...this was the community I missed upon moving...and as we commented upon, it is here at auditions where we can all run into each other kinda on accident, or at least unplanned, and spend a whole day together...
I was waiting to audition for the non-equity "Wizard of Oz" tour. Not my show per se, but my goal currently is to learn how to audition, which entails going to every call that I can...another benefit is to audition for a casting director who I haven't yet sung for, and who casts a lot of non-eq tours.
Eventually I had nearly forgotten we were auditioning. it felt more like play time, with some nostalgic story telling sprinkled in. these are people that I have played with....a few stories and many laughs later, I decide to practice my headstands. recently took my first yoga class in a long time and at the end of class I went into my head stand three times without even using a wall, just straight up...so as I had nothing better to do with my time, I might as well...
Using the training wheels, I started against a wall. Tried a few times, wasn't really happening, I think the jeans were the problem, yeah, the jeans were definitely constricting me...then I tried again sans watchbracelet/vest and tie...I got up and was holding it, remembering the little tips that the teacher gave me last week. and soon I heard someone hollering about, just as I was finding my zen place, total focus.
"Hey you! Hey! Hey you!" the voice was getting closer. I wondered if this voice was aimed at me, but as my eyes could only capture a bench, I had no idea what was going on.
Soon John had picked up this guy was talking to me, and said, "Hey, Mitch."
At which point this genius calls my name, "Hey Mitch! Whaddaya doing? Get down from there!" in one of those lovely Long Island/Jersey/Brooklyn accents...(I can't really tell the difference, but who cares, right? They are all really attractive.)
I stay up up for just a few seconds, so as to take my time coming down gracefully. And as I do and stand up to this man, he says, and I quote, "That doesn't work...C'mon man, use your head!"
Really? did this guy just set me up like that? I mean, that is sit-com material. So I respond in the only way appropriate.
"I did."
He mutters a "not like that" and strolls back into his "private office" talking and shaking his head at someone like he had just confronted some idiot in the hallway who was wrestling, or punching the walls or running around naked. But no, I was practicing a yoga pose.
At this point everyone in the hallway busts up laughing as the tension releases. And I take my cue to go on a stand-up-esque tirade about the absurdity and audacity of this man to come out so angry at me. With quips about how dangerous it was for him to distract me in such a vulnerable position, and adding that he might actually benefit from a little Yoga himself with that temper problem, I was really wondering what the hell was so wrong with a headstand. Of course all of this came at a volume just loud enough so that he could probably hear me, and I tended to send them in his direction, "Is warrior one alright?" I called out to his office...
There are people littered all over this place singing God-awful trills, stretching, sleeping, gossiping...I mean if anything I was contributing a little good energy to the collective. I was not shouting, or running, and I was only taking up as much room as I would have if I was standing up...minding my own business.
I debated walking into that office and asking him, but my better mind saw that he had probably suffered enough. Everyone in the hallway was now looking at him like he was the village idiot. Even our "new audition friends" Jeff and Morgan had watched the scene and got a kick out of it. Not only had he disrupted a good vibe, but he laid down a total bonehead line, bringing out the original smart-ass in me that had me flipping cards so often in grade school. What can I say, I am a clever cat. and I don't mind making a grown man look foolish after he nearly paralyzes me.
But, I should be thanking this man. And I will now. Thank you balding man who works in a private office in a studio in New York who sits around all day doing God-knows-what other than giving people people perfect punchline opportunities. With your help, our group of friends now has a ripe new inside joke, one that will probably get years of use. So I appreciate your humility, and if you'd ever like to learn that headstand, just let me know.
So with Deidre, Katherine, John and Eric, UC Irvine had a little alumni reunion in halls of Pearl Studios. We were not all there for the same show, but to have a home base where people could leave and come back was very nice. It was actually kinda like when we travel out onto the playa at Burning Man. A fortress of backpacks. thinking on it now, these people are the creme of the crop from my time at Irvine, people who I had tremendous joy spending time with, lots of memories with...this was the community I missed upon moving...and as we commented upon, it is here at auditions where we can all run into each other kinda on accident, or at least unplanned, and spend a whole day together...
I was waiting to audition for the non-equity "Wizard of Oz" tour. Not my show per se, but my goal currently is to learn how to audition, which entails going to every call that I can...another benefit is to audition for a casting director who I haven't yet sung for, and who casts a lot of non-eq tours.
Eventually I had nearly forgotten we were auditioning. it felt more like play time, with some nostalgic story telling sprinkled in. these are people that I have played with....a few stories and many laughs later, I decide to practice my headstands. recently took my first yoga class in a long time and at the end of class I went into my head stand three times without even using a wall, just straight up...so as I had nothing better to do with my time, I might as well...
Using the training wheels, I started against a wall. Tried a few times, wasn't really happening, I think the jeans were the problem, yeah, the jeans were definitely constricting me...then I tried again sans watchbracelet/vest and tie...I got up and was holding it, remembering the little tips that the teacher gave me last week. and soon I heard someone hollering about, just as I was finding my zen place, total focus.
"Hey you! Hey! Hey you!" the voice was getting closer. I wondered if this voice was aimed at me, but as my eyes could only capture a bench, I had no idea what was going on.
Soon John had picked up this guy was talking to me, and said, "Hey, Mitch."
At which point this genius calls my name, "Hey Mitch! Whaddaya doing? Get down from there!" in one of those lovely Long Island/Jersey/Brooklyn accents...(I can't really tell the difference, but who cares, right? They are all really attractive.)
I stay up up for just a few seconds, so as to take my time coming down gracefully. And as I do and stand up to this man, he says, and I quote, "That doesn't work...C'mon man, use your head!"
Really? did this guy just set me up like that? I mean, that is sit-com material. So I respond in the only way appropriate.
"I did."
He mutters a "not like that" and strolls back into his "private office" talking and shaking his head at someone like he had just confronted some idiot in the hallway who was wrestling, or punching the walls or running around naked. But no, I was practicing a yoga pose.
At this point everyone in the hallway busts up laughing as the tension releases. And I take my cue to go on a stand-up-esque tirade about the absurdity and audacity of this man to come out so angry at me. With quips about how dangerous it was for him to distract me in such a vulnerable position, and adding that he might actually benefit from a little Yoga himself with that temper problem, I was really wondering what the hell was so wrong with a headstand. Of course all of this came at a volume just loud enough so that he could probably hear me, and I tended to send them in his direction, "Is warrior one alright?" I called out to his office...
There are people littered all over this place singing God-awful trills, stretching, sleeping, gossiping...I mean if anything I was contributing a little good energy to the collective. I was not shouting, or running, and I was only taking up as much room as I would have if I was standing up...minding my own business.
I debated walking into that office and asking him, but my better mind saw that he had probably suffered enough. Everyone in the hallway was now looking at him like he was the village idiot. Even our "new audition friends" Jeff and Morgan had watched the scene and got a kick out of it. Not only had he disrupted a good vibe, but he laid down a total bonehead line, bringing out the original smart-ass in me that had me flipping cards so often in grade school. What can I say, I am a clever cat. and I don't mind making a grown man look foolish after he nearly paralyzes me.
But, I should be thanking this man. And I will now. Thank you balding man who works in a private office in a studio in New York who sits around all day doing God-knows-what other than giving people people perfect punchline opportunities. With your help, our group of friends now has a ripe new inside joke, one that will probably get years of use. So I appreciate your humility, and if you'd ever like to learn that headstand, just let me know.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
The Toaster-Oven Dilemma...and Patterns
I feel the symptoms described by a character in a Tom Robbins book...comfort levels rising causing me to feel some paralysis.
(Exactly one month ago I let this sentiment flow from my head down my likely tense shoulders, through my arms to fingers tip tapping their way across my keyboard...it continues)
I am afraid to open my toaster oven, as though once I do that I will no longer be capable of traveling the world...I break that seal, it is still possible to return it, but once it is out of the box, working for me, toasting my toast, warming bagels and vegetarian meatballs i will no longer want to get rid of it, it will be too painful, plus i have the added investment of money and time...I just know now, after college and buying things to make our houses homes, that it all just ends up being stuff to deal with, stuff that is scattered across the current homes of several friends, money down the proverbial drain...so wasteful, blind consumption...I have a desire to take all of the things I bought this evening back to target. the house is fine as it is. does not need more. the simple plastic plates will suffice, glass jars are perfect glasses, no fear of plastic contamination, they say, "i care about the planet." and they are also unique, like I'm that cool guy who has jars for glasses, like it is some novel idea...I have just grown so accustomed to middle class life with homes completely furnished by target and ikea, so the idea of random stuff making up a home feels so WILD.
...I have wanted to go back to these words...but I do not want to touch them, what I wrote was what I felt...I can now tell you that I took the toaster-oven back, it never even left the bag. The only things I kept were steak knives and plates. the knives have been the very necessary sharp tool used for all cutting needs...such is the life of a Californian transplant bachelor...He lives without scissors.
I can tell you this. in this entire month I have not missed the toaster...only once burned toast in the oven, and I just scraped off the black parts with my knife...and i enjoy drinking out out glass jars that used to house spaghetti sauce. they are hefty, a good size. at some point I'd like to soak them, let the labels peel off, but honestly...it is not necessary, so laziness wins that battle...
I was right to know that life without these items would hardly make me blink...impulse purchasing and thinking we need things...we don't. I don't. It was a nice step in the right direction. A step towards simple. Simplify. (Here I wrote something cliche, like a bold observation about life with a trite ending. perfect for the last 5 pages of some Hollywood script. so I deleted it. saved you from reading more worthless self-indulgent crap. you're welcome.)
Though I still notice myself finding comfort...in patterns, habits...wake up and immediately stumble to the kitchen, bring water to a boil in an old chrome tea kettle and make coffee in my stove top espresso maker....every day...
...or my walk to the gym: South on Hooper for two blocks, across the street from Alberto's Laundromat and under the Dominican Flags, then I stare down at the garbage that always collects by the chain-link fence...a right onto 5th street, I pick this street because after the first block which is mostly dirty and at the end always has cat food sitting out for strays, I walk from Keap to Rodney streets, and this one block is lined with trees, clean neat houses with stoops that watch me pass...and then then the real reason I take this path. the old church on the South-Eastern corner of Rodney and South 5th. red brick. tall steeple, juts into the sky and no matter blue skies or grey clouds, either way i find it an inspiration. a reminder to keep my head up...
then i pass the the Red Mill Warehouse, which for a long time I thought was running a drug-game... (that may have just been watching too much WEEDS)...then there is the large tree with the Mother's day balloons...back in May they were full of helium trying to pull away from the tree, now they are pulling in the other direction, a sagging bouquet drooping in death, gravity pulls them to their grave, the branches keep them swinging in mid air...I cross the street, by the sweet nuts vendor and the table with ladies undergarments....then I walk through the bus lot, wonder about the folks using this form of transportation and avoid dead birds on the concrete...under the JMZ line I walk carefully so as not to get hit by the mysterious dripping from above that covers most of the sidewalk... I glance at the curls, beards and yamakas as Hassidic men bustle around the string of banks and then the same men watch over the brown men building their latest addition to Williamsburg...luxury apartments...last, past a cool looking bar that I have never walked into, and there it is: my little piece of comfort and luxury...SOMA health club...I walk in and either make awkward eye contact and hellos with the girl who stands so uncomfortably that she makes me uncomfortable, or i talk with Liam the musical theatre actor who has also been in NY for a year...through my workouts, distracted on occaision by Sports Center...and i end it with five to ten minutes in the steam room...
...very predictable...pattern habit, this little controlled piece that gives me false security in a chaotic unpredictable world, one might say...
also. I found a desk...on the street, it was dark out but looked to be in good condition, so i rolled it home. It was dirty, so I cleaned it up, but now I have a perfectly good desk. It was on the invisible, ongoing list of things to add to the apartment...A bargain.
(Exactly one month ago I let this sentiment flow from my head down my likely tense shoulders, through my arms to fingers tip tapping their way across my keyboard...it continues)
I am afraid to open my toaster oven, as though once I do that I will no longer be capable of traveling the world...I break that seal, it is still possible to return it, but once it is out of the box, working for me, toasting my toast, warming bagels and vegetarian meatballs i will no longer want to get rid of it, it will be too painful, plus i have the added investment of money and time...I just know now, after college and buying things to make our houses homes, that it all just ends up being stuff to deal with, stuff that is scattered across the current homes of several friends, money down the proverbial drain...so wasteful, blind consumption...I have a desire to take all of the things I bought this evening back to target. the house is fine as it is. does not need more. the simple plastic plates will suffice, glass jars are perfect glasses, no fear of plastic contamination, they say, "i care about the planet." and they are also unique, like I'm that cool guy who has jars for glasses, like it is some novel idea...I have just grown so accustomed to middle class life with homes completely furnished by target and ikea, so the idea of random stuff making up a home feels so WILD.
...I have wanted to go back to these words...but I do not want to touch them, what I wrote was what I felt...I can now tell you that I took the toaster-oven back, it never even left the bag. The only things I kept were steak knives and plates. the knives have been the very necessary sharp tool used for all cutting needs...such is the life of a Californian transplant bachelor...He lives without scissors.
I can tell you this. in this entire month I have not missed the toaster...only once burned toast in the oven, and I just scraped off the black parts with my knife...and i enjoy drinking out out glass jars that used to house spaghetti sauce. they are hefty, a good size. at some point I'd like to soak them, let the labels peel off, but honestly...it is not necessary, so laziness wins that battle...
I was right to know that life without these items would hardly make me blink...impulse purchasing and thinking we need things...we don't. I don't. It was a nice step in the right direction. A step towards simple. Simplify. (Here I wrote something cliche, like a bold observation about life with a trite ending. perfect for the last 5 pages of some Hollywood script. so I deleted it. saved you from reading more worthless self-indulgent crap. you're welcome.)
Though I still notice myself finding comfort...in patterns, habits...wake up and immediately stumble to the kitchen, bring water to a boil in an old chrome tea kettle and make coffee in my stove top espresso maker....every day...
...or my walk to the gym: South on Hooper for two blocks, across the street from Alberto's Laundromat and under the Dominican Flags, then I stare down at the garbage that always collects by the chain-link fence...a right onto 5th street, I pick this street because after the first block which is mostly dirty and at the end always has cat food sitting out for strays, I walk from Keap to Rodney streets, and this one block is lined with trees, clean neat houses with stoops that watch me pass...and then then the real reason I take this path. the old church on the South-Eastern corner of Rodney and South 5th. red brick. tall steeple, juts into the sky and no matter blue skies or grey clouds, either way i find it an inspiration. a reminder to keep my head up...
then i pass the the Red Mill Warehouse, which for a long time I thought was running a drug-game... (that may have just been watching too much WEEDS)...then there is the large tree with the Mother's day balloons...back in May they were full of helium trying to pull away from the tree, now they are pulling in the other direction, a sagging bouquet drooping in death, gravity pulls them to their grave, the branches keep them swinging in mid air...I cross the street, by the sweet nuts vendor and the table with ladies undergarments....then I walk through the bus lot, wonder about the folks using this form of transportation and avoid dead birds on the concrete...under the JMZ line I walk carefully so as not to get hit by the mysterious dripping from above that covers most of the sidewalk... I glance at the curls, beards and yamakas as Hassidic men bustle around the string of banks and then the same men watch over the brown men building their latest addition to Williamsburg...luxury apartments...last, past a cool looking bar that I have never walked into, and there it is: my little piece of comfort and luxury...SOMA health club...I walk in and either make awkward eye contact and hellos with the girl who stands so uncomfortably that she makes me uncomfortable, or i talk with Liam the musical theatre actor who has also been in NY for a year...through my workouts, distracted on occaision by Sports Center...and i end it with five to ten minutes in the steam room...
...very predictable...pattern habit, this little controlled piece that gives me false security in a chaotic unpredictable world, one might say...
also. I found a desk...on the street, it was dark out but looked to be in good condition, so i rolled it home. It was dirty, so I cleaned it up, but now I have a perfectly good desk. It was on the invisible, ongoing list of things to add to the apartment...A bargain.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Temptaion Laid On My Cold Living Room Floor...
...I leaned back in my chair, stretched my neck and as I turned to my left noticed a small baggie on the floor...faded batman insignias on one side...even against the built up grime on the hardwood floor, behind the semi-transparent zippie I could see it. White powdery residue. Cocaine. There is cocaine in my home. I knew this already, I saw the rolled up dollar bills on the table a few mornings ago...turns out my one-month-subletter enjoys a little nose candy on the weekends after his long hours at the IT company...I picked it up and looked at it...a strange sensation, desire came over me...wanted to smell it, then had a fear that some of the drug could be inhaled, causing a high which I don't think I am ready for.
In a matter of seconds thoughts are speeding through my mind..."what if I put this on my gums? Would it work? Is there enough in here to have affect? How crazy would that be, my first time, perhaps only time, doing coke by myself on a friday in my pajamas while reading a book on love and journaling?"...(my thoughts turned positive, probably the devil on my shoulder)... "it seems pretty artistic...could take me to an interesting new depth"...(the angel then chimes back in) "could also create an addiction," (the devil sends one back across the net) "maybe my writing and essence would be so raw and conscious that I would become hooked on the stuff, never bothering to write unless I was on coke...a speed freak trying to take my own writing to the next level, competing with Jack Kerouac's ghost, following his example...using narcotics as a way to open up my mind"
...I stared at this small baggie no bigger than a quarter and saw the power it had, or that I had given it...I had two choices: to do, or not to do, that was the question...
In a moment I could see my entire existence explained...the make or break point...I would look back 40 years later saying to the camera, "it was in that moment, at age 23, I chose to take the chaotic road, pushing my body to unhealthy extremes, choosing to know addiction so as to learn a new high...thinking, logically explaining to myself that it would be worth it because pain and pleasure come as an inseparable pair, I cannot know new depths of one without the crest of the other...If I ever wanted to live, this was the way..."
...And after that 15 seconds of thought, I set the baggie down, picked up the laptop with the flickering screen, and decided to write down my thoughts instead. Maybe it is fear, and maybe I am missing out on a piece of life...but part of my soul knows there is something very dark about this drug...and I'm just not sure that is a road I want to walk...
However, it is clear to me that not to allow my mind to even wonder about the possibility, or open myself up to the opportunity is a great mistake...How can we really know something without exploring it? As this example proves to me, I do not believe it is necessary to actually take the steps, to act on impulse...but it is crucial, if we are to have any objectivity in our thoughts and opinions, to allow for the possibility...We must at least walk these lines (cocaine or otherwise) closely, get right up to them and study them, sometimes must cross them to find out how we really feel about them...By banning something outright in your mind, you choose ignorance for fear that by exploring it, knowing it, you may then think differently about it...and this new idea or belief may contradict a pre-existing idea you have about your identity, then you are left asking the ultimate frightening questions, the ones that society and culture want you to forget about, encouraging you to buy handbags and watch 'Desperate Housewives' instead...
"Who am I? Were my ideas about who I was in the past false? Have I been living a lie?"
...and once you've asked the questions, if you are at all honest with yourself, it is impossible to go back to living in the old patterns, you are now too aware of other possibilities, too aware of yourself...you question any and all of your actions, "Is this actually me, or am I acting in accordance with the rules of society? Am I merely mimicking everyone else? Am I playing a role?"
...today the real me sat in my pajamas, in my chair, in my brooklyn apartment and considered trying cocaine...at least I think it was the real me, I could have just been hoping for an interesting experience to write about...you never know with these exhibitionist-artistic folks...
*upon further examination, I would like to note that there was really only what would be considered a "trace amount" of cocaine, and my ponderings were more in the "what if" zone...my intention was to share an example of my mind playing with an idea, less of an actual struggle with a desire to do cocaine...to be honest it really doesn't excite me, but in that moment I played the "but what if i did?" game with myself...no need to fear folks, I am not about to slip into a Lindsey Lohan-drug coma....
In a matter of seconds thoughts are speeding through my mind..."what if I put this on my gums? Would it work? Is there enough in here to have affect? How crazy would that be, my first time, perhaps only time, doing coke by myself on a friday in my pajamas while reading a book on love and journaling?"...(my thoughts turned positive, probably the devil on my shoulder)... "it seems pretty artistic...could take me to an interesting new depth"...(the angel then chimes back in) "could also create an addiction," (the devil sends one back across the net) "maybe my writing and essence would be so raw and conscious that I would become hooked on the stuff, never bothering to write unless I was on coke...a speed freak trying to take my own writing to the next level, competing with Jack Kerouac's ghost, following his example...using narcotics as a way to open up my mind"
...I stared at this small baggie no bigger than a quarter and saw the power it had, or that I had given it...I had two choices: to do, or not to do, that was the question...
In a moment I could see my entire existence explained...the make or break point...I would look back 40 years later saying to the camera, "it was in that moment, at age 23, I chose to take the chaotic road, pushing my body to unhealthy extremes, choosing to know addiction so as to learn a new high...thinking, logically explaining to myself that it would be worth it because pain and pleasure come as an inseparable pair, I cannot know new depths of one without the crest of the other...If I ever wanted to live, this was the way..."
...And after that 15 seconds of thought, I set the baggie down, picked up the laptop with the flickering screen, and decided to write down my thoughts instead. Maybe it is fear, and maybe I am missing out on a piece of life...but part of my soul knows there is something very dark about this drug...and I'm just not sure that is a road I want to walk...
However, it is clear to me that not to allow my mind to even wonder about the possibility, or open myself up to the opportunity is a great mistake...How can we really know something without exploring it? As this example proves to me, I do not believe it is necessary to actually take the steps, to act on impulse...but it is crucial, if we are to have any objectivity in our thoughts and opinions, to allow for the possibility...We must at least walk these lines (cocaine or otherwise) closely, get right up to them and study them, sometimes must cross them to find out how we really feel about them...By banning something outright in your mind, you choose ignorance for fear that by exploring it, knowing it, you may then think differently about it...and this new idea or belief may contradict a pre-existing idea you have about your identity, then you are left asking the ultimate frightening questions, the ones that society and culture want you to forget about, encouraging you to buy handbags and watch 'Desperate Housewives' instead...
"Who am I? Were my ideas about who I was in the past false? Have I been living a lie?"
...and once you've asked the questions, if you are at all honest with yourself, it is impossible to go back to living in the old patterns, you are now too aware of other possibilities, too aware of yourself...you question any and all of your actions, "Is this actually me, or am I acting in accordance with the rules of society? Am I merely mimicking everyone else? Am I playing a role?"
...today the real me sat in my pajamas, in my chair, in my brooklyn apartment and considered trying cocaine...at least I think it was the real me, I could have just been hoping for an interesting experience to write about...you never know with these exhibitionist-artistic folks...
*upon further examination, I would like to note that there was really only what would be considered a "trace amount" of cocaine, and my ponderings were more in the "what if" zone...my intention was to share an example of my mind playing with an idea, less of an actual struggle with a desire to do cocaine...to be honest it really doesn't excite me, but in that moment I played the "but what if i did?" game with myself...no need to fear folks, I am not about to slip into a Lindsey Lohan-drug coma....
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