Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius, and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring. - Marilyn
Monroe

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Mother Nature

I just realized I've been away for several months. I'm producing a short film here in Denver, so I've been a bit distracted but in the most wonderful way. But, today I felt the urge to hop on here and say something. I vicariously live through a character in a series I'm writing right now. Her name is Jade and she's me. She's who I used to be and who I want to be. The only difference, she's won an Academy Award and I have not. So, you can only imagine how much I admire Jade. ;)

Any who. A lot of thoughts and chatter stir my mental soup these days, especially as a screenwriter. Everything I hear, everything I say... it can all be used differently. I can use it as great dialogue. Fearlessly. The conversations I have with myself and with other people are what inspire me the most and this is the beauty of character writing. It's truly a wonderful exercise for releasing - to vent through someone else, someone you invented, someone you didn't invent rather you just changed their name. My God! What a brilliant concept! Everyone should write at least one screenplay before they die. Seriously. Do it. Its' mega therapy.

But, getting more on topic...What I wanted to discuss is this: A tragic storm by the name of Harvie, also my Beta fish's name, just blew through Houston, which is my hometown. And another colossal storm just blew through India. These places are underwater and people need help, our help, any help. It's heart-rending, it's scary... and it's loud. It's very loud. What does that mean exactly? It's loud? It means I think this planet has spiraled out of control and Mother nature is angry, and God bless those who have fallen victim to her fury. I think we need to take a serious moment to reflect on this and dig deeper int our hearts and minds. There's an undisclosed meaning in the wake of just about everything, if you really think about it. Something always equals something bigger, even if it's tiny. The small things add up and become the big things. Yada yada.

I think what Mother Nature is trying to say is this, and I will do my best to channel what I think would be her voice... if she could speak using the English language:

I'm angry because this world is insane. The Earth is on fire, and though we do need that light and that flame to carry us and show us the way, we're burning everything down to the fucking ground. We're burning each other down (aka) bringing each other down and we're destroying the earth, each other, our animals, our children, our beliefs, our values, our rights and I could go on and on... Ashes to ashes, but ashes can't be used to light the spark that sets our hearts on fire, and we need that fire. It's a paradox, but so is the truth. We need the heat and we need the light in order to tread an honest path, but we can't just burn everything down to the ground. We can't just launch nuclear missiles, ban people who are different, hate people, hurt people, kill people. We've taken our fire and burned all the bridges that connect us to... each other. We do this by judging, blaming, disparaging, loathing, killing... We have angry world leaders and a human species beyond recognition due to an evil force so vile it can hardly be reckoned with. It must stop. -Mother Nature 

The world is quite gross when you think about it. Actually you don't even have to think about. All you've have to do is scroll through Facebook and Instagram feeds. You'll see it even if you didn't want to see it. You'll see some animal being tortured, a starving child, a poacher. You'll see it all and you'll probably cry or cringe, or just feel like shit for twenty minutes because the Earth is burning to the ground and money makes it go around. Insert Jewel song:

People living their lives for you on t.v.
They say they're better than you and you agree
He says "Hold my calls from behind those cold brick walls"
Says "Come here boys, there ain't nothing for free
Another doctor's bill, a lawyer's bill
Another cute cheap thrill 
You know you love him if you put him in your will 
But, who will save you soul... 

It won't be Mother Nature because she's pissed. All the chaos in this world -- the hustlers, the liars, the thieves, the killers. She's lost her mind too, and her roaring weather can't be tamed. But like you and me, she can be happier and we can help make the world a better place. We can serve our Mother Nature rather than infuriate her by lighting our own torch and helping others to find their way. In a universe built upon dirt and ash, we can still light our own match and we can use our own light to guide ourselves back onto a path of love and simple, human decency.

Because Mother Nature has once again poured her ocean of hurt over cities that are now in need of ample love and support. She's a collective force pleading with us. Begging us. Asking us to love each other, especially now. It's as if she's forcing us to. How interesting. I do believe this is God's world, not ours. I am not without a God, thank God. I do believe He is the father who art in Heaven, whatever that is, and she is the Mother who art here on Earth... with us. So, let's stop pissing her off.

Lets make love make the world go round.


Wednesday, May 17, 2017

who you are



Change is real but it doesn't have to mean you change who you are. It means you change.. the way you are. And the way you are is the way you've become. What's the difference?

There's a big difference.

Who you are is who you were born to be. It's your animus - your dispositions and intentions. It's your spirit-self. The one that says: hey, be an artist! Or hey, go save lives in the Middle East! Or hey go do some scary shit that will make your journey so breath taking you won't know where you began. And all that changes with time because change is real and being a glorified soul whether you paint or save lives can be a real struggle, and a lot of people don't survive the fray of being duty bound in constant creation mode. Because to be a prodigy is to be a survivor of your own fear and doubts and those inflicted. Ergo, we adjust our perspectives thus changing our dispositions and intentions - our views. I don't want to save the world, we tell ourselves. My art doesn't matter. Nobody cares. Blah blah blah. Our policies and standards all change, with time. Some for the better, some for the worse. Some for the worse and hardly ever for the better. Cue the alcoholism and/or drugs, or depression, or pure mediocrity and a lack of inspiration. Boredom.

But even that doesn't change who you are because who you are is who you will always be. Minus the booze. Minus a revolving door that closes more often then it opens. Minus our views and standards. Minus the boredom and the mundane. You've got to subtract the shit that makes you who you think you are first. Like your car for instance. Or your bank account. You might think it makes you who you are, but those things do not define you.

The way you are is the way you react to people who cut you off while you drive your nice car, or your old ugly car. It's who you are at events. It's the way you react when faced with circumstances, confrontations, hardships etc.... It's the way you carry yourself and speak to an audience. It's the way you are when relaxed, or when you refuse to relax. It's the way you work or don't work. It's the way you think and over think, and then think some more, and then some more. And all of that... can change. Because it's not who you are.

When I was young, my mother would lecture me in parking lots and on sidewalks. Anne-Marie. Why do you walk with your head down? She would ask me in a tone I didn't prefer. I would stare at the ground when I walked. I had no confidence and well, my mother was.... impetuously brash. Still is. But was it the way I was born? No. It was the way I became. It's the way I started to think.

No child of mine walks with their head down. Lift your head up. Pull your shoulders back. Be confident.  She would say... on every sidewalk. At every dance rehearsal. It wasn't who I was. I wasn't confident. I was broken. Too much divorce and instability will do that to a child. Confident is what I became, but it took time. After another handful of years surviving my mother's life, I started surviving my own and I did it with confidence. But I don't just survive. I enjoy life too. And that's who I am. 

It's not the way I am though. My ways can be quite reckless. But I'm working on changing that to better myself. Because the way I am is OCD as fuck, schedule bound, restless, always in need of creating something, fitness fitness fitness, being something, thinking I'm not anything.... migraines, stressed, happy and excited. Up then down. That's the way I am. It's not who I am.

I am quite grateful for my mother's sidewalk sermons, now relics. Confidence is a keepsake and it's the reason I even bother being an artist, because without faith in one's self, an artist is nothing more than a crazy person. It's harsh but true. Artists are tortured, in a beautiful way. And I'll admit... I have my crazy person days - those days when I can't get my heart out of my head, and those two fight like a couple on the verge of a nasty ass divorce. My heart and my head rarely get along much less work well together. Why? Because the head (aka) the mind is a thought machine and the heart is not a machine at all. Rather, the heart is ethereal - self sacrificing, dream aligned. Not afraid. And that is who we are and nothing can change that unless, well, you think it can. The key to being who you really are and not who you think you are is knowing how to control your mind, because when you don't how to do that, it does in fact get out of control...and waaaaay out of control. And guess what? You turn into a crazy person! And you didn't even need a paint brush to do it either.

You see, the way you are is a perspective. It's all in your mind. It's who you think you are. It's how you think you should respond because it's the way you're hard wired and conditioned. You are the way you are because you learned how to be that way. But who you are isn't learned.

It's understood.

Who you are is who you'll always be and who you've always been. It's who you know you are, it's not who you think you are. It's not what mom told you to be, or what dad told you not to be.

It's freedom... from all of those things. Who you are is... free, and that's sacred. This life is sacred because we have no clue when it ends or why it even began. We didn't ask to be here but we are here, just trying to be who we think we should be.

So, whether you've got confidence or not, remember your freedom. You can be totally, utterly and completely free from who you think you should be and, instead.... just be who you are.

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

monster mind

I called you a monster this morning and I meant it. So go home monster because you're in my head. You're in my words. You're in my prayers. My pillow turns to stone when you don't leave me alone.

Today I felt like something divine joined me in my office as I gave myself some down time to reflect. I was looking at the walls pretending the walls were listening. Maybe they do, listen. If only the walls could talk. The decorative fixtures made my eyes move waywardly. The knick knacks, the green and yellow galore. It makes me smile. Then... a transcendent moment of observing with my eyes closed took presence as though it was standing between me and those decorative walls. It felt like an angel blew her breath across my arms. Goosebumps, but for just a brief moment.

Then my head spins and the spinning is loud like a rusty old marry-go-round on a grassy dune, but the grass needs watering. She spins with the wind, not with a child because she's old and won't be bothered. But she's not old enough. A child's freedom could be a good thing for her nuts and bolts. Make her remember, oh youthful spirit, how to be free the way you are and how to run the way you run. Because a child doesn't run... away. A child runs a different way.

A sudden breeze inside my head and she squeals. I get a migraine. When she stops twisting in circles making me dizzy again, she runs like a rabbit -- hopping but not too high. Only high enough to irrupt like a volcano. Down pours the obsidian -- the hot lava my temper perspires. She's a bunny. She's a volcano. She's whatever I want her to be. My mind is my inception, an opening.

She's my birth. I can react and die a little or I can react and live a little more...

She often recoils inciting a marathon and I have to run for miles and miles. Chasing her for days. For years. That crazy rabbit. She won't stop running away. And by the way... Tricks are for kids! But are they though? I'm tricked more than I ever was as a child, running in a mental and emotional contest. Hopping, jumping. This way that way. Not sure about the future. I get tired. Fortunately her shoes are neon colored, making her easy to catch in the dark. And when I don't catch her I wonder who I am. When my own mind has forsaken me in her neon colored shoes, who do I become?

I become who I really am.

So, then what stands between us? A prayer. A plead. Please Monster... go home! She's a rabbit. She's a volcano. She's a runner in neon shoes. She's a monster.  Without my monster marbles and reasoning - my wits, thoughts and confusion, I'm unfamiliar... and it's really quiet. And it's a beautiful thing. And I didn't even have to pay someone. But, I'm used to her song. I'm a musician. I'm used to the music. But her orchestra is confused. She's dazed but marvelous. Her symphony is perfect for something dramatic. So, please Monster... go dance! Go sing. Go heal.

Because music is not music without the dance.

Just let it go in those neon shoes. Go waltz amongst the ash that your volcanic temper gave life to. You give life to death. Ashes to ashes. Hop away from me now because without you I'm free. Without you I'm still. I'm still waiting for you to return to me. When I send you home I'm peaceful. But I still need you. So please monster. Go home! Come back when you're older. Return to me when I'm younger. Because if we're going to do this thing together... we need to do it better. Forever.