Mint Chocolate Chip Soy Ice Cream
...at midnight just CANNOT be good for you. i think about that sometimes because yeah, i've got a decent diet, but i probably cast everything to the wind when i consume one meal a day, or eat in the middle of the night, then fall asleep in my clothes because of utter fatigue. does this lifestyle ever change?
who knows.
and why is it like this? why else: because there are never ever enough hours in a waking day. i used to feel so guilty if i didn't spend at least 18 to 20 hours a day working on some aspect of my dream. if the sun hit me, i figured i should be working. when others were out playing, i should be working. when others were sleeping, i should be working because "sleep is the cousin of death," and "we have promises to keep, and miles to go before we can sleep."
but i'm too old for that crap now. sure, it did well by me as a younger man; pushed my productivity off the charts and set a tone for a work ethic that has served me well. but now, as a "thirtysomething," i'm starting to feel those little aches and pains. i used to be able to go to sleep upside down in a greyhound bus seat or lazyboy. now, if my head isn't squared just right on the pillow, when i wake up, my neck feels as if someone tried press a rairoad spike into one side or the other. and let's not talk about sleeping the wrong way on a shoulder and feeling like i tried--unsuccessfully--to break down a door like a b-movie detective.
that said, i'm trying to learn to sleep, but psychologically, i've got some things to get over. prepare for a short artist's rant.
let me tell you a cute little story. when i first decided to do my art full time, i consulted with my Pops for his ultimate wisdom. i suppose i was looking for some approval of sorts. i'll never forget standing at the corner of the yard and talking with him on the afternoon of the day i had submitted my letter of resignation to the full-time gig i was working at a really cool community center. i told him about my desire to act and the conversation went a little like this:
"Pop, i've decided to leave the center."
"Well, what are you going to do?"
(pause)
"I'm going to act."
"Well, that's a good thing."
(a pause for my surprise)
"You think so?"
"Yeah, you'll be good at that. You've been doing those kind of things a long time. (pause) But....um, what's your JOB going to be?"
"That's my job, Pop. I'm going to be an actor."
"Oh, I know. I heard that. But...where are you going to WORK?"
My Pops, rest his soul, had his unique ways. i love that cat.
most people, however, see it that way. so, we "creative types" have to go through life struggling not only to make a living, but to sometimes prove to others that we can make a living doing these things we love. it can be tough. i've got one person who swears in their own mind, that i can run around and do errands and favors for them because i have an "open schedule." what the blankety-blank does that mean? well, let me translate: "you don't punch a clock, so you don't have a real job."
years ago, that translated into working myself into a stupor to try and tie up my time and feel as if it were well spent. nowadays, i've created an awesome workload to have to keep up with, and to be honest, it's kinda get rough. now i'm not complaining here. i can say that almost all of the work i've been undertaking has been in my fields of dreams, so it's not like labor work. i enjoy it. yet, i find myself still finding a need to let go of others' expectations and judgements. that's a neccessary step for an artist to take--shedding others' expectations and judgments and just getting into one's flow, regardless of the "normalcy" of that flow's paradigm when juxtaposed to others' lives.
so as i sit and type and come close to closing, i say again that i am thankful for the dreams i've been blessed with. tonight, my class met Dr. J. Robert Bradley and it was a fabulous experience for all of us. i'm in the middle of a week-long actor's intensive workshop that is a joy to participate in. each class is unique, special. i'm enjoying the conversations and exercises i get to lead people through. i can't wait to see everyone step out into the field of their dreams and join me in the world of the weirdos. :-)
artists have to learn to maintain their sanity in an insane world. if one wears deodorant and goes amongst a community of people who don't wear any deodorant at all, then who is considered the stinky one?
hmmm...
everything is relative. the artist has to be confident, sure (pardon the pun) that they are not the stinky one, even when the surrounding underarms collectively smell so bad that they begin to smell good after a while. we cannot lose perspective. we are charged with the responsibility of weaving society's dreams. sometimes in that process, society turns on us, judges us, does not support or believe in the legitimacy of our crat(s). yet, we must push on, even if it means losing a little sleep.
blind with fatigue and about to call it in...
joc
