I love making plans and itineraries.
I don't know why. I don't know how to describe what the stimulation is.
I know there's more of us out there. I know there's people like me, restless maybe, who relish in the nuts and bolts of everything, who overplan trips much to the nuisance of our comrades.
So am I going to write plans for my upcoming year? Well...yes.
As I've written before, it's one thing to say to a family member "I'm going to lose weight." It's another to write it down, to publish it, because then it becomes a living reality that one has to reckon with. Saying it becomes a conversation that doesn't hold weight, but writing it down...that plan now becomes a record. Someone can now retrieve your documents, some historian from 2334 C.E. and see that you wrote "I'm going to lose weight."
By the way, I'm not going to lose weight.
What I am going to do is record my plans that may or may not be followed. It takes exhausting work to fulfill ambition. Unfortunately some plans fall through the cracks. If I can accomplish 60% of my plans, I'm doing well. That doesn't deter me from making them.
As I said in the beginning of 2014, my plans revolve around a couple of ideas. One is Phase 2, a term I've come up for this stage of my life. The major focus of this is on my development as a screenwriter and director, and working on a career that fulfills my sociopolitical interests, like Library & Information Sciences.
Another idea is the 30 List which is a list of items I am undertaking before I turn 30. It primarily deals with travel but also personal goals and it informs Phase 2.
I talked about what I've worked on in the previous post to fulfill both those ideas. A great deal of progress has been made towards my professional and artistic goals. I made a short film, I'm writing, and I'm getting my graduate school credits.
Ultimately this upcoming year will be about continuing that momentum. I have a job that now informs my career. I'd like to take on an internship for the Summer, but my concentration is now and until accomplished to finish my degree. As I write this I am roughly two or three semesters from that completion. My plan at this moment (thus, subject to change) is to do two more semesters. I want a job in a library. I need to get that degree. I'm close, but I'm still in the middle of where I want to be. That's one plan: walk with a degree in hand, which is inevitable.
That's a professional goal, but there's this artistic thing I do. A lot of those plans are starting to rise up. To meet my 30 List goal of getting something I've made shown at a major film festival, I'm concentrating on making one short film every year. I have a script I'm working substantially on. It's about a young woman leaving behind a science career to fulfill her ambition to act. Essentially the script is about her audition process--her memoriziation of lines and the obvious climax. Currently the script needs a couple more revisions, but it's getting there. The title right nown is Skinny Dipping. I'm starting to make contacts outside my normal group. I find this rewarding because I'm getting "fresh eyes" to look at my scripts and provide feedback. Plus this short may actually have outside funding (emphasis on may).
In conjunction with this I'm going to be working on a new feature spec script. The one I worked on and revised last year was a fulfilling exercise, but I'm reluctant to hand it over to anyone. I have an idea already hatched up for a couple of feature specs, and I'm going to start working on one when I have an opportunity.
So for professional and artistic we have: complete MLIS, internship, make a new film, write a new script. BOOM!
Then there's the travel part of my 30 List. Ultimately Phase 2 is more heavily focused on artistic and professional goals, but I have to travel. I've bitten that bug and I can't stop making itineraries that I will carry out. The travel plans of Phase 2 are just more focused on domestic or local travel (North America). Last year because of my job situation I wasn't able to take advantage of any paid vacation time. Consequently I squeezed in San Francisco and D.C. which fulfilled some life goals and dreams, but this year I intend to fulfill a bit of my 30 List. I've already taken off for a week of vacation this upcoming year so it's doable. Where am I going?
Last year I mentioned a desire to go to Arizona. This year that may happen. I'm still undecided, but by the end of the month I intend to make my decision between Arizona (Grand Canyon and Flagstaff area) and Quebec (Canada's on my 30 List). Of course I'm writing pros and cons lists, asking friends, etc at this stage. Roughly both trips are the same cost and cancel each other out in terms of pros and cons. What it boils down to is making a decision between nature and culture. With Arizona I get to be a part of wondrous natural environments, environments almost unreal (and Mars-like, which is half the factor). Quebec has elements of nature that can fulfill a little bit of that, but it's not as exotic. The climate for Quebec is fairly unpredictable that time of year. Then again Quebec has Montreal and Quebec City, beautiful walk-able cities with exceptionally good looking food, ice hockey (and my favorite team), a thriving film culture, and a foreign culture most definitely unlike mine.
See my indecision?
In an ideal world, and this may be possible, I'll be able to do both this year, so it's really a decision about what to do in March. What is definite is that I will be taking another item off the 30 List.
So these are my core plans.
Losing weight would be nice, but I'm not planning on it just yet.
Sunday, December 14, 2014
Life Update Winter 2014
Well then. There are 17 more days left in 2014. Let's get a sprawling update in, shall we?
I mean, this blog has been neglected. This blog has been really, really neglected.
Only in the past week, as I catch up on a short script and as classes have ended for me, have I been able to intersperse some blog writing. Why no blog posts?
I've been busy. Whether that's positive or not, I'm not sure. I'd like to think so. For me, being productive has become a natural mode of being. I have to be productive to relatively adhere to my ambitions.
It's been hard, though. I am exhausted in every nook and cranny of my body, of my being.
So what's been going on?
I'll tell you what's been going on. I've been trying to live up to my Phase 2 plans, as I've outlined at the beginning of the year and it has taken every blood cell out of me.
Figuratively speaking, of course.
...
Let's list what I've done that I consider to be representative of my Phase 2 plans:
1) I completed a short film as director and co-producer named Awake.
2) I revised and now have a spec feature script. Whether I do anything with it I don't know. Frankly, one's first spec script isn't probably going to be great. We'll see.
3) I revised and revised and...revised a little more my pilot spec script, which I submitted to the Austin Film Festival.
4) I have completed 21 hours of graduate level courses in my Master's of Library & Information Science.
5) I have traveled to San Francisco and Washington D.C. plus Savannah, GA and several trekking adventures in the mountains.
I completed all of these tasks while working jobs (I've had two this year) that required 40-44 hours a week.
Holy shit.
Completing these tasks meant certain other plans weren't able to happen. Completing this tasks meant that my energy was drained, that during the week I wasn't able to take in a lot of artistic or creative material other than poetry and on the weekends, movies. Completing these tasks meant that sometimes I wasn't able to fully realize and relish in my social life.
...
I am restless.
That's not a Levi's ad statement. That's not something I have hanging on my Pinterest board or Tumblr in cursive.
That word, "restless," or associated words like "restlessness," have emerged in my lexicon only this year. I began using the word with more frequency after watching the first episode of Ken Burns' The Roosevelts. Theodore Roosevelt was described as a restless, as interviewees remarked on how in every picture where he sat, his first was balled up on his leg, ready to "get action" as he would say.
I'm not Teddy Roosevelt. I am unable to read two books in one day. I am not negotiating peace treaties between Japan and Russia. But I am restless. I am the kind of person who taps on his leg, who balls fists on a leg.
This means sleep deprivation. This means taking on tasks that are difficult to maintain. This summer I wanted to see a friend's show in Flowery Branch. Unfortunately I found out that night I had a major assignment due...the next day. I could tell my friend that I won't be able to attend. Did I? No. I stayed up all night getting the majority of the assignment done. That was 12:30AM. I woke up at 5AM to get ready for work at 7AM where I have to drive 45 minutes (so I leave at 6AM for traffic). After work let out at 3:30 PM I went to the library, finished and turned in the assignment, drove from Commerce, GA to Flowery Branch.
I'm not patting myself on the back.
I speak of restlessness in a very neutral way. Unfortunately my restlessness is discussed here as part of how I look forward in growth and how I want to grow.
I am a Leslie Knope kind of person. Throughout my work I would work on nuts and bolts kind of stuff, creating itineraries for my trips and weighing other travel options through pros and cons lists. Like Leslie Knope, and with being restlessness, I have found that I am a steamroller. I have a tendency to be competitive, to spew my facts when unnecessary, to jump on conversations.
An example of this would be something trivial such as proving I'm right on something. "When was the Mall opened? 2004" a friend might ask. "No it was 1999" I might respond. "No, I think you're wrong." I could just say "Whatever," but instead I get on my smart phone and look up the opening date just to prove that individual wrong.
Who wants to hang out with that? Who wants to hang out with someone who always has be right?
This is something I am reckoning with, working to be more self-aware of. I have to learn to put a check on my nervous and restless energy, elements of myself that are certainly not endearing such as my anxiety, paranoia, etc. I have to find a way to get my balance back.
It's been difficult to retrieve that balance. I still write everyday but often it's for assignments or for homework. I have to utilize my discipline to find moments to relax, to unwind in some capacity. Everyday can't be a race. I can't always be wound up ready to go.
I'll be working on that.
...
Traveling has been discussed in my many blogs, but ultimately my travel plans didn't fit within my initial ambition. That doesn't make them any less meaningful.
The most substantial trips were to San Francisco and Washington D.C. which I have elaborated on. I also went to Asheville for a couple of weekends, to Savannah, and I underwent several mountain treks in Western North Carolina and North Georgia like Whiteside Mountain and Blood Mountain.
I talk about travel through this post to reflect on how my travels held common themes. In large respect, San Francisco and D.C. represented my fulfillment of younger dreams and aspirations. In most respects, these trips were detoxes. They were ways to handle issues going on or to reaffirm existential crises, whether it was to reaffirm a love of Georgia (Savannah), a love of film (San Francisco and seeing Linklater's Boyhood), or a better understanding of patriotism (D.C.). After being rejected by someone I was falling for, I detoxed in Asheville and hiked Chimney Rock and Whiteside Mountain. After a crisis with my friendships and with just a mind crunch at work, I trekked Blood Mountain.
This is what travel is about. It's about broadening perspective and seeing what you're made of.
I'd like to not require this many detoxes, however.
...
There is a positive feeling at having so much taken care of, however. I am most proud of my short film Awake. I've made films, I've worked on films, but this was a new level. This was putting every atom of my being into an artistic project. I wrote and co-produced the film. I provided outlets for my friends and their wonderful talents. I created something that I think is at the very least interested.
This will not be the only time this happens.
Now this short has me jazzed about films. I went to two film festivals this year, the San Francisco Film Festival and the Asheville Film Festival. Both were important. I've talked about how important Richard Linklater has become and how the SFFF confirmed that. The Asheville Film Festival was also important because I got to see the short films that are accepted. Were they spectacular? No, but they were accomplished because someone set them up and made them. Watching them I realized I'll be able to make shorts and that Awake is unique, valid, and can play at a film festival.
Unfortunately I believe I will fall short of my usual goal of 30 films per year. I have worked a lot, accomplished a lot, so it's inevitable. The kind of films I love, I lament, are losing steam and are being marketed to VOD instead of reasonable runs in theaters. Yet, I am content in my film year. I am writing more scripts, writing new loglines, coming up with new ideas, meeting and networking with Film Athens and others. This part of me is starting to emerge.
...
I have accomplished a lot in my Library & Information Sciences degree as well. I have completed 21 hours. I have roughly two semesters left. I have learned so much about metadata schemas, standards. I can talk MODS and MARC now.
Talking about my degree, as you can imagine with my use of acronyms, is a bit difficult. In essence what I'm doing is like the stage managing of library & information sciences. I am responsible for making sure the behind the scenes stuff run smoothly. I implement information into metadata fields that individuals can access in records. Currently I have a job where our customers (libraries) order books and I retrieve catalog records that match them. The term for this: Technical Services.
This was something I worked on in my entry level library job, but now I'm headlong into it. I can find fascination and zen in the mechanics of an operation, but there is trepidation. The courses aren't too bad online. I was concerned about the format but it works well in certain degrees, it just requires more effort to interact with students but I am successful in some respects. What I miss is people though.
All library & information science fields are service positions, but I most certainly miss actually working with people, actually engaging in face to face interactions with students or patrons. When I worked at my former company, an ISP, I interacted with several customers but it was over the phone, impersonal and so forth. At the library I worked before and most certainly at the school I had the reward and stimulation of working with people, particularly children.
I left education, a field I probably could get a job out of if I completed a MAT, because I wanted the technology stimulus that I received in library & information sciences. Yet, now in this current position, one that will aid my career, I miss the human stimulus I received in education. I miss hearing "Mr. Ben."
I talked with my professor and explained that I need to get some reference experience in and some courses, which she agreed. Next semester I intend to take a class on Children's Materials because I realized that my favorite thing to do in both fields was to read to children. I didn't choose school library media as my track, but I think I'm going to start utilizing the resources that my school offers in that regard.
...
Poetry...I got a lot done in this arena, reasonably. I haven't published a lot, but that's because I've been working on a collection.
I wrote a poem about my great-grandmother's life in the mill culture that I sent to Fred Chappell, who I saw read at the Thomas Wolfe House in Asheville. His reception was positive, as were many others. Consequently I set myself to write a collection of poems that dealt with the downfall of working class culture and mill culture where I grew up. For instance, I talk about Toccoa and what happened after the casket and furniture plants left and I have a poem about what welding is. Initially I wanted to call the series What Mills Are to allude to Philip Levine's great collection What Work Is but I wasn't going to just talk about mills. It was about working class culture in North Georgia. I bounced around with names until I found one: When That Great Ship Went Down, which comes from a folk song about the Titanic.
That has been my focus in writing poetry. I have been revising the poems, splicing them, etc. The progress made with poetry hasn't matched my progress in film and screenwriting, but I have made progress is seeing more poets read. I mention Fred Chappell, and I saw some poets at the Athens Cine. I was starstruck after seeing Jericho Brown and Kevin Young read because through an acquaintance I met former poet laureate Natasha Trethewey.
...
These Life Update blog posts are often sprawling, so if you manage to finish I thank you. Understand that my blog is about my growth. I finally renamed my blog Look Homeward, Martin after Thomas Wolfe's book. I am Eugene Gant in a way. I've written about this but it's important for all of us to reach some level of self-awareness, to own up to our issues, our faults, and our responsibilities to create a better life for ourselves. Writing this stuff down, talking about this stuff, gives life to them. It places them out in the open to reckon with.
I use this Life Updates to reflect, because reflection is important. Reflection is human. I want to give myself the life I dream about. Though I didn't step in certain doors this year, though I didn't fully accomplish everything, I maintained a productivity that ultimately led me close to happiness, to life fulfillment. I made a film, I'm close on my grad school, my job is related to my career, and I can see better things.
I won't get too sentimental.
What's next on the plate for next year?
That'll be discussed later.
I mean, this blog has been neglected. This blog has been really, really neglected.
Only in the past week, as I catch up on a short script and as classes have ended for me, have I been able to intersperse some blog writing. Why no blog posts?
I've been busy. Whether that's positive or not, I'm not sure. I'd like to think so. For me, being productive has become a natural mode of being. I have to be productive to relatively adhere to my ambitions.
It's been hard, though. I am exhausted in every nook and cranny of my body, of my being.
So what's been going on?
I'll tell you what's been going on. I've been trying to live up to my Phase 2 plans, as I've outlined at the beginning of the year and it has taken every blood cell out of me.
Figuratively speaking, of course.
...
Let's list what I've done that I consider to be representative of my Phase 2 plans:
1) I completed a short film as director and co-producer named Awake.
2) I revised and now have a spec feature script. Whether I do anything with it I don't know. Frankly, one's first spec script isn't probably going to be great. We'll see.
3) I revised and revised and...revised a little more my pilot spec script, which I submitted to the Austin Film Festival.
4) I have completed 21 hours of graduate level courses in my Master's of Library & Information Science.
5) I have traveled to San Francisco and Washington D.C. plus Savannah, GA and several trekking adventures in the mountains.
I completed all of these tasks while working jobs (I've had two this year) that required 40-44 hours a week.
Holy shit.
Completing these tasks meant certain other plans weren't able to happen. Completing this tasks meant that my energy was drained, that during the week I wasn't able to take in a lot of artistic or creative material other than poetry and on the weekends, movies. Completing these tasks meant that sometimes I wasn't able to fully realize and relish in my social life.
...
I am restless.
That's not a Levi's ad statement. That's not something I have hanging on my Pinterest board or Tumblr in cursive.
That word, "restless," or associated words like "restlessness," have emerged in my lexicon only this year. I began using the word with more frequency after watching the first episode of Ken Burns' The Roosevelts. Theodore Roosevelt was described as a restless, as interviewees remarked on how in every picture where he sat, his first was balled up on his leg, ready to "get action" as he would say.
I'm not Teddy Roosevelt. I am unable to read two books in one day. I am not negotiating peace treaties between Japan and Russia. But I am restless. I am the kind of person who taps on his leg, who balls fists on a leg.
This means sleep deprivation. This means taking on tasks that are difficult to maintain. This summer I wanted to see a friend's show in Flowery Branch. Unfortunately I found out that night I had a major assignment due...the next day. I could tell my friend that I won't be able to attend. Did I? No. I stayed up all night getting the majority of the assignment done. That was 12:30AM. I woke up at 5AM to get ready for work at 7AM where I have to drive 45 minutes (so I leave at 6AM for traffic). After work let out at 3:30 PM I went to the library, finished and turned in the assignment, drove from Commerce, GA to Flowery Branch.
I'm not patting myself on the back.
I speak of restlessness in a very neutral way. Unfortunately my restlessness is discussed here as part of how I look forward in growth and how I want to grow.
I am a Leslie Knope kind of person. Throughout my work I would work on nuts and bolts kind of stuff, creating itineraries for my trips and weighing other travel options through pros and cons lists. Like Leslie Knope, and with being restlessness, I have found that I am a steamroller. I have a tendency to be competitive, to spew my facts when unnecessary, to jump on conversations.
An example of this would be something trivial such as proving I'm right on something. "When was the Mall opened? 2004" a friend might ask. "No it was 1999" I might respond. "No, I think you're wrong." I could just say "Whatever," but instead I get on my smart phone and look up the opening date just to prove that individual wrong.
Who wants to hang out with that? Who wants to hang out with someone who always has be right?
This is something I am reckoning with, working to be more self-aware of. I have to learn to put a check on my nervous and restless energy, elements of myself that are certainly not endearing such as my anxiety, paranoia, etc. I have to find a way to get my balance back.
It's been difficult to retrieve that balance. I still write everyday but often it's for assignments or for homework. I have to utilize my discipline to find moments to relax, to unwind in some capacity. Everyday can't be a race. I can't always be wound up ready to go.
I'll be working on that.
...
Traveling has been discussed in my many blogs, but ultimately my travel plans didn't fit within my initial ambition. That doesn't make them any less meaningful.
The most substantial trips were to San Francisco and Washington D.C. which I have elaborated on. I also went to Asheville for a couple of weekends, to Savannah, and I underwent several mountain treks in Western North Carolina and North Georgia like Whiteside Mountain and Blood Mountain.
I talk about travel through this post to reflect on how my travels held common themes. In large respect, San Francisco and D.C. represented my fulfillment of younger dreams and aspirations. In most respects, these trips were detoxes. They were ways to handle issues going on or to reaffirm existential crises, whether it was to reaffirm a love of Georgia (Savannah), a love of film (San Francisco and seeing Linklater's Boyhood), or a better understanding of patriotism (D.C.). After being rejected by someone I was falling for, I detoxed in Asheville and hiked Chimney Rock and Whiteside Mountain. After a crisis with my friendships and with just a mind crunch at work, I trekked Blood Mountain.
This is what travel is about. It's about broadening perspective and seeing what you're made of.
I'd like to not require this many detoxes, however.
...
There is a positive feeling at having so much taken care of, however. I am most proud of my short film Awake. I've made films, I've worked on films, but this was a new level. This was putting every atom of my being into an artistic project. I wrote and co-produced the film. I provided outlets for my friends and their wonderful talents. I created something that I think is at the very least interested.
This will not be the only time this happens.
Now this short has me jazzed about films. I went to two film festivals this year, the San Francisco Film Festival and the Asheville Film Festival. Both were important. I've talked about how important Richard Linklater has become and how the SFFF confirmed that. The Asheville Film Festival was also important because I got to see the short films that are accepted. Were they spectacular? No, but they were accomplished because someone set them up and made them. Watching them I realized I'll be able to make shorts and that Awake is unique, valid, and can play at a film festival.
Unfortunately I believe I will fall short of my usual goal of 30 films per year. I have worked a lot, accomplished a lot, so it's inevitable. The kind of films I love, I lament, are losing steam and are being marketed to VOD instead of reasonable runs in theaters. Yet, I am content in my film year. I am writing more scripts, writing new loglines, coming up with new ideas, meeting and networking with Film Athens and others. This part of me is starting to emerge.
...
I have accomplished a lot in my Library & Information Sciences degree as well. I have completed 21 hours. I have roughly two semesters left. I have learned so much about metadata schemas, standards. I can talk MODS and MARC now.
Talking about my degree, as you can imagine with my use of acronyms, is a bit difficult. In essence what I'm doing is like the stage managing of library & information sciences. I am responsible for making sure the behind the scenes stuff run smoothly. I implement information into metadata fields that individuals can access in records. Currently I have a job where our customers (libraries) order books and I retrieve catalog records that match them. The term for this: Technical Services.
This was something I worked on in my entry level library job, but now I'm headlong into it. I can find fascination and zen in the mechanics of an operation, but there is trepidation. The courses aren't too bad online. I was concerned about the format but it works well in certain degrees, it just requires more effort to interact with students but I am successful in some respects. What I miss is people though.
All library & information science fields are service positions, but I most certainly miss actually working with people, actually engaging in face to face interactions with students or patrons. When I worked at my former company, an ISP, I interacted with several customers but it was over the phone, impersonal and so forth. At the library I worked before and most certainly at the school I had the reward and stimulation of working with people, particularly children.
I left education, a field I probably could get a job out of if I completed a MAT, because I wanted the technology stimulus that I received in library & information sciences. Yet, now in this current position, one that will aid my career, I miss the human stimulus I received in education. I miss hearing "Mr. Ben."
I talked with my professor and explained that I need to get some reference experience in and some courses, which she agreed. Next semester I intend to take a class on Children's Materials because I realized that my favorite thing to do in both fields was to read to children. I didn't choose school library media as my track, but I think I'm going to start utilizing the resources that my school offers in that regard.
...
Poetry...I got a lot done in this arena, reasonably. I haven't published a lot, but that's because I've been working on a collection.
I wrote a poem about my great-grandmother's life in the mill culture that I sent to Fred Chappell, who I saw read at the Thomas Wolfe House in Asheville. His reception was positive, as were many others. Consequently I set myself to write a collection of poems that dealt with the downfall of working class culture and mill culture where I grew up. For instance, I talk about Toccoa and what happened after the casket and furniture plants left and I have a poem about what welding is. Initially I wanted to call the series What Mills Are to allude to Philip Levine's great collection What Work Is but I wasn't going to just talk about mills. It was about working class culture in North Georgia. I bounced around with names until I found one: When That Great Ship Went Down, which comes from a folk song about the Titanic.
That has been my focus in writing poetry. I have been revising the poems, splicing them, etc. The progress made with poetry hasn't matched my progress in film and screenwriting, but I have made progress is seeing more poets read. I mention Fred Chappell, and I saw some poets at the Athens Cine. I was starstruck after seeing Jericho Brown and Kevin Young read because through an acquaintance I met former poet laureate Natasha Trethewey.
...
These Life Update blog posts are often sprawling, so if you manage to finish I thank you. Understand that my blog is about my growth. I finally renamed my blog Look Homeward, Martin after Thomas Wolfe's book. I am Eugene Gant in a way. I've written about this but it's important for all of us to reach some level of self-awareness, to own up to our issues, our faults, and our responsibilities to create a better life for ourselves. Writing this stuff down, talking about this stuff, gives life to them. It places them out in the open to reckon with.
I use this Life Updates to reflect, because reflection is important. Reflection is human. I want to give myself the life I dream about. Though I didn't step in certain doors this year, though I didn't fully accomplish everything, I maintained a productivity that ultimately led me close to happiness, to life fulfillment. I made a film, I'm close on my grad school, my job is related to my career, and I can see better things.
I won't get too sentimental.
What's next on the plate for next year?
That'll be discussed later.
Thursday, December 11, 2014
Sentimentality and Defining my Personal Patriotism in D.C.
What was D.C. all about?
There's a patriotism in mind for an American interested in traveling to our nation's capital. Being in D.C. means seeing older folk that are retired and have time finally going to the capital for the first time. It's seeing military folk on leave. It's day care and elementary school children crowding the Washington Monument in t-shirts that represent their school. Later they will write an essay in their ELA course about what the monument, what Washington, what the capital meant to them. In a way, this a that kind of essay, brimming with primal sentimentality.
Visiting D.C., or the experience of being in D.C., there's a hope in the U.S. tourist (at least in me) of discovering or reaffirming national identity. A visit to D.C. from a U.S. citizen's point of view is akin to going back home for Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner. It's a time capsule of what may or may not make one an American, or United Statesian (because South Americans are Americans too).
...
What led me here?
I realized, last year while in Lima, that I traveled to Buenos Aires before I went to D.C. I visited three other nation capitals and yet I had never visited mine. That was the spark.
There was more, however. I think there was a malaise about living in this country that began to settle in me. I was nostalgic for South America. It's not just that. I think a lot of people have malaise about the country. It's easy to have doubts. Everything now--from our media coverage of...everything to the new commercial idea of Black Thursdays--can create a distaste about this country and a doubtfulness as to whether or not it deserves your defense. It's hard to defend a country in a conversation with friends abroad when education budgets are sliced and diced, when apathy becomes a currency of solidarity.
Intellectually I knew I was being immature. Of course there's a greatness to this country. Of course this country is too vast for generalization. Of course if there's something bad we have the worst of it, but if there's something good we have the best of it.
This malaise existed as a visceral feeling, not an intellectual one, and it was a feeling I was having a hard time shaking off. Therefore I felt this trip would not only accomplish a life list item but maybe I could reaffirm my faith that I belonged here.
I don't know why D.C. would be that place, to possibly meet some patriotic quote that I was lacking. After all, D.C. is the hotbed of House of Cards kind of happenings. I figured I might give it a try.
Now, let's get to nuts and bolts.
...
I chose to go on this trip because I started a new job in July and unfortunately I wasn't going to be receiving vacation days for anytime soon. I did notice that we were off for Labor Day and I hatched the idea to go to D.C. on Friday evening and have the weekend to spend there.
My itinerary, which I hashed during spare moments because I love creating itineraries, basically allowed for traversing the National Mall and Arlington National Cemetary, but I also took on a cruise to Mount Vernon and I intended to visit a local D.C. neighborhood. There wasn't a huge interest in visiting all of the Smithsonians, nor was there a possibility. My primary intention was to check out the Library of Congress and the National Air and Space Museum, plus all of the memorials.
I stayed in a hostel once more, Hostelling International. Many would shrug off the idea of a hostel given the length of time I would stay in D.C. Yet the hostel was pretty affordable and it was close to everything.
How did I get around? Walk, mostly. A few of my friends recommended Uber which I downloaded by never used. There's a meaningful purpose to Uber. Sometimes the hip and cool places are in neighborhoods that are sketchy. That's Uber's purpose for me. I never encountered this, so I used public transit and buses. They're inexpensive and I don't personally mind being around people.
Was D.C. dirty? Nah. No worse than San Francisco. D.C. has its neighborhoods but I never went through them. A lot of people were worried that I might get around some bad areas, but D.C. has been heavily gentrified.
I will say that anytime I left early, which I always did, it was like changing of the guard for the prostitutes. Every time I walked to a transit station at 7 in the morning these ladies in cutoff shorts that were clearly prostitutes would be going home. That's an incredible work shift.
...
My first impression of D.C. was flying into Reagan National Airport, which is for national flights only. If you, my reader, ever fly to D.C. from within the U.S. you should find flights to this airport. It's on the banks of the Potomac and as I flew in at night I could look out the window and see the scale of the National Mall, from the Lincoln Memorial through the Washington Monument and Congress, as I descended. This is a sight worth having. Plus, Reagan connects with D.C.'s light rail which Dulles International doesn't.
Now I do not intend to go into detail about everywhere I went. I will only discuss transcendent moments. I will list what I did. If you want to travel with me, this is an impression of what my itinerary looked like ultimately. Brace yourselves:
Day 1--
Tour Congress
Tour Library of Congress
Eat yak, elk, and buffalo burger sliders at the Museum of the American Indian
Walk around Museum of the American Indian
National Air & Space Museum
Washington Monument
World War II Memorial
Vietnam Memorial
Lincoln Memorial
visit the White House
visit the National Archives--see Constitution, Bill of Rights, and the Declaration of Independence
See Perfect Pussy, Joanna Gruesome, and Potty Mouth at the Rock and Roll Hotel
Day 2--
Cruise Potomac
Explore Mount Vernon
Explore Dupont Circle and check out Kramer Books
Rest
Day 3--
Arlington National Cemetery
Go home
As you can imagine, it would require too much of my writing and too much of your time to provide my impressions of each event. Instead I am going to talk about the places that induced a moment of transcendence. The two prominent places that facilitated my moments of clarity were the National Air & Space Museum and the Lincoln Memorial.
A lot of individuals have commented on the National Air & Space Museum as overblown or overrated. This is probably the most popular museum on the National Mall. It's crowded. People are everywhere. For me, however, it serves as a barometer of jadedness because HOW on earth can this places be overblown? How can you think "meh" when right as you enter there's two nuclear missiles, one Soviet and one US? How can you be underwhelmed by NASA rockets, by WW1 and WW2 planes, by the freakin' Wright Flyer? Maybe I am overzealous for aviation (or for everything) but I most certainly was not underwhelmed. I was a little kid again.
This is what the National Air & Space Museum is: it's a museum of dreams. It's a museum of dreams, one that has the artifacts of people's sweat to accomplish their dreams. It's not just a museum of aviation but of what people can accomplish. It's the greatest argument in favor of the dignity of people. It's the greatest argument against apathy and excuses. These people built an object that went to the moon. The moon! How wonderful, how sublime is that?!
Alright, let's tone it down.
Throughout Day 1 I was sweating on my way through the National Mall. I knew I was going to finish exactly where I wanted to, the place I remember seeing at age 4 in my great-grandmother's 1964 World Book Encyclopedia.
It was no longer a black & white photograph. Lincoln means a lot to me. I've studied his speeches, read the works on him by James McPherson.
This was not his tomb or mausoleum but it was important to see him, see his dignity and posture. As overwhelming as he was, there's a comfort his place, looking down, as if he's telling us or me "it's alright."
I was certainly emotional, near tears. Part of that reaction was fulfilling the dream of a 4 year old who read Abe Lincoln's Hat and who was given a biography of Lincoln as a gift for undergoing surgery at age 7. There's an enormous sense of well being to dream of something, to set a goal, and to follow through. I felt that in this moment, reading the Gettysburg Address and the Second Inaugural Address.
There was a new feeling that began to permeate. As I mention, my trip to D.C. stemmed from a malaise with U.S. culture. Yet, I knew from my readings what Lincoln put himself through to continue the struggle in order to preserve this country. I had this feeling that if he was willing to stand up, I should to. This was a patriotic feeling, but not a militaristic feeling. It was the patriotic feeling you might get with your family, where you experience the combination of tumultuous bickering and stout dedication.
The other moments were wonderful. The pure exhaustion and fun of seeing Perfect Pussy & Joanna Gruesome chug it out. The graceful beauty of Mount Vernon. The hip coolness of Dupont Circle. The sacredness of Arlington.
Lincoln Memorial outdid them. Even though it's just a statue of a guy, it's a guy who had doubts, who suffered depression, who had uncertainties, and who plowed through because he saw something important in the soil he stood on. That's not in a military sense, but a spiritual sense, that he belonged on this ground. The Lincoln Memorial out did them all.
Although in terms of my trip that kind of sucks. It kind of sucks that I had a day and a morning left, and I already reached the climax of my trip.
I will say the National Archives were important for me as well. They were doing an exhibit on the civil rights, but there was something breathtaking about seeing the faded ink on the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. They also had a copy of the Magna Carta. I mean it's hard to elaborate in hyperbole over those. We've all had history class. We know their importance.
...
The idea that the United States is the greatest country in the world is nonsense. We need to purge that idea out of our culture. The United States isn't the greatest country in the world, and I'm not saying that in a Sorkin-esque kind of way because of The Newsroom. Anyone who reads books, anyone who travels abroad knows this fact, that the U.S. isn't the greatest country in the world.
Yet I feel like Lincoln. There's something undefined about here that leads me to believe I belong here. So I think D.C. reaffirmed that I am right. The United States isn't the greatest country, but it's my country. That's an important difference, if I may get political and stand on a soap box. Saying the United States is the greatest country means it doesn't need to change, it doesn't need to progress, that lethargy is acceptable and that's absolute nonsense. There's a reason I believe "This Land is Our Land" should be our national anthem (though I like the "Star Spangled Banner"--I'm not that much of a contrarian). By saying this is my country and our country...it acknowledges that lethargy is unacceptable.
I mean we have to take a stand and step up...
if we want National Cookie Day to be a federal holiday.
There's a patriotism in mind for an American interested in traveling to our nation's capital. Being in D.C. means seeing older folk that are retired and have time finally going to the capital for the first time. It's seeing military folk on leave. It's day care and elementary school children crowding the Washington Monument in t-shirts that represent their school. Later they will write an essay in their ELA course about what the monument, what Washington, what the capital meant to them. In a way, this a that kind of essay, brimming with primal sentimentality.
Visiting D.C., or the experience of being in D.C., there's a hope in the U.S. tourist (at least in me) of discovering or reaffirming national identity. A visit to D.C. from a U.S. citizen's point of view is akin to going back home for Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner. It's a time capsule of what may or may not make one an American, or United Statesian (because South Americans are Americans too).
...
What led me here?
I realized, last year while in Lima, that I traveled to Buenos Aires before I went to D.C. I visited three other nation capitals and yet I had never visited mine. That was the spark.
There was more, however. I think there was a malaise about living in this country that began to settle in me. I was nostalgic for South America. It's not just that. I think a lot of people have malaise about the country. It's easy to have doubts. Everything now--from our media coverage of...everything to the new commercial idea of Black Thursdays--can create a distaste about this country and a doubtfulness as to whether or not it deserves your defense. It's hard to defend a country in a conversation with friends abroad when education budgets are sliced and diced, when apathy becomes a currency of solidarity.
Intellectually I knew I was being immature. Of course there's a greatness to this country. Of course this country is too vast for generalization. Of course if there's something bad we have the worst of it, but if there's something good we have the best of it.
This malaise existed as a visceral feeling, not an intellectual one, and it was a feeling I was having a hard time shaking off. Therefore I felt this trip would not only accomplish a life list item but maybe I could reaffirm my faith that I belonged here.
I don't know why D.C. would be that place, to possibly meet some patriotic quote that I was lacking. After all, D.C. is the hotbed of House of Cards kind of happenings. I figured I might give it a try.
Now, let's get to nuts and bolts.
...
I chose to go on this trip because I started a new job in July and unfortunately I wasn't going to be receiving vacation days for anytime soon. I did notice that we were off for Labor Day and I hatched the idea to go to D.C. on Friday evening and have the weekend to spend there.
My itinerary, which I hashed during spare moments because I love creating itineraries, basically allowed for traversing the National Mall and Arlington National Cemetary, but I also took on a cruise to Mount Vernon and I intended to visit a local D.C. neighborhood. There wasn't a huge interest in visiting all of the Smithsonians, nor was there a possibility. My primary intention was to check out the Library of Congress and the National Air and Space Museum, plus all of the memorials.
I stayed in a hostel once more, Hostelling International. Many would shrug off the idea of a hostel given the length of time I would stay in D.C. Yet the hostel was pretty affordable and it was close to everything.
How did I get around? Walk, mostly. A few of my friends recommended Uber which I downloaded by never used. There's a meaningful purpose to Uber. Sometimes the hip and cool places are in neighborhoods that are sketchy. That's Uber's purpose for me. I never encountered this, so I used public transit and buses. They're inexpensive and I don't personally mind being around people.
Was D.C. dirty? Nah. No worse than San Francisco. D.C. has its neighborhoods but I never went through them. A lot of people were worried that I might get around some bad areas, but D.C. has been heavily gentrified.
I will say that anytime I left early, which I always did, it was like changing of the guard for the prostitutes. Every time I walked to a transit station at 7 in the morning these ladies in cutoff shorts that were clearly prostitutes would be going home. That's an incredible work shift.
...
My first impression of D.C. was flying into Reagan National Airport, which is for national flights only. If you, my reader, ever fly to D.C. from within the U.S. you should find flights to this airport. It's on the banks of the Potomac and as I flew in at night I could look out the window and see the scale of the National Mall, from the Lincoln Memorial through the Washington Monument and Congress, as I descended. This is a sight worth having. Plus, Reagan connects with D.C.'s light rail which Dulles International doesn't.
Now I do not intend to go into detail about everywhere I went. I will only discuss transcendent moments. I will list what I did. If you want to travel with me, this is an impression of what my itinerary looked like ultimately. Brace yourselves:
Day 1--
Tour Congress
Tour Library of Congress
Eat yak, elk, and buffalo burger sliders at the Museum of the American Indian
Walk around Museum of the American Indian
National Air & Space Museum
Washington Monument
World War II Memorial
Vietnam Memorial
Lincoln Memorial
visit the White House
visit the National Archives--see Constitution, Bill of Rights, and the Declaration of Independence
See Perfect Pussy, Joanna Gruesome, and Potty Mouth at the Rock and Roll Hotel
Day 2--
Cruise Potomac
Explore Mount Vernon
Explore Dupont Circle and check out Kramer Books
Rest
Day 3--
Arlington National Cemetery
Go home
As you can imagine, it would require too much of my writing and too much of your time to provide my impressions of each event. Instead I am going to talk about the places that induced a moment of transcendence. The two prominent places that facilitated my moments of clarity were the National Air & Space Museum and the Lincoln Memorial.
A lot of individuals have commented on the National Air & Space Museum as overblown or overrated. This is probably the most popular museum on the National Mall. It's crowded. People are everywhere. For me, however, it serves as a barometer of jadedness because HOW on earth can this places be overblown? How can you think "meh" when right as you enter there's two nuclear missiles, one Soviet and one US? How can you be underwhelmed by NASA rockets, by WW1 and WW2 planes, by the freakin' Wright Flyer? Maybe I am overzealous for aviation (or for everything) but I most certainly was not underwhelmed. I was a little kid again.
This is what the National Air & Space Museum is: it's a museum of dreams. It's a museum of dreams, one that has the artifacts of people's sweat to accomplish their dreams. It's not just a museum of aviation but of what people can accomplish. It's the greatest argument in favor of the dignity of people. It's the greatest argument against apathy and excuses. These people built an object that went to the moon. The moon! How wonderful, how sublime is that?!
Alright, let's tone it down.
Throughout Day 1 I was sweating on my way through the National Mall. I knew I was going to finish exactly where I wanted to, the place I remember seeing at age 4 in my great-grandmother's 1964 World Book Encyclopedia.
It was no longer a black & white photograph. Lincoln means a lot to me. I've studied his speeches, read the works on him by James McPherson.
This was not his tomb or mausoleum but it was important to see him, see his dignity and posture. As overwhelming as he was, there's a comfort his place, looking down, as if he's telling us or me "it's alright."
I was certainly emotional, near tears. Part of that reaction was fulfilling the dream of a 4 year old who read Abe Lincoln's Hat and who was given a biography of Lincoln as a gift for undergoing surgery at age 7. There's an enormous sense of well being to dream of something, to set a goal, and to follow through. I felt that in this moment, reading the Gettysburg Address and the Second Inaugural Address.
There was a new feeling that began to permeate. As I mention, my trip to D.C. stemmed from a malaise with U.S. culture. Yet, I knew from my readings what Lincoln put himself through to continue the struggle in order to preserve this country. I had this feeling that if he was willing to stand up, I should to. This was a patriotic feeling, but not a militaristic feeling. It was the patriotic feeling you might get with your family, where you experience the combination of tumultuous bickering and stout dedication.
The other moments were wonderful. The pure exhaustion and fun of seeing Perfect Pussy & Joanna Gruesome chug it out. The graceful beauty of Mount Vernon. The hip coolness of Dupont Circle. The sacredness of Arlington.
Lincoln Memorial outdid them. Even though it's just a statue of a guy, it's a guy who had doubts, who suffered depression, who had uncertainties, and who plowed through because he saw something important in the soil he stood on. That's not in a military sense, but a spiritual sense, that he belonged on this ground. The Lincoln Memorial out did them all.
Although in terms of my trip that kind of sucks. It kind of sucks that I had a day and a morning left, and I already reached the climax of my trip.
I will say the National Archives were important for me as well. They were doing an exhibit on the civil rights, but there was something breathtaking about seeing the faded ink on the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. They also had a copy of the Magna Carta. I mean it's hard to elaborate in hyperbole over those. We've all had history class. We know their importance.
...
The idea that the United States is the greatest country in the world is nonsense. We need to purge that idea out of our culture. The United States isn't the greatest country in the world, and I'm not saying that in a Sorkin-esque kind of way because of The Newsroom. Anyone who reads books, anyone who travels abroad knows this fact, that the U.S. isn't the greatest country in the world.
Yet I feel like Lincoln. There's something undefined about here that leads me to believe I belong here. So I think D.C. reaffirmed that I am right. The United States isn't the greatest country, but it's my country. That's an important difference, if I may get political and stand on a soap box. Saying the United States is the greatest country means it doesn't need to change, it doesn't need to progress, that lethargy is acceptable and that's absolute nonsense. There's a reason I believe "This Land is Our Land" should be our national anthem (though I like the "Star Spangled Banner"--I'm not that much of a contrarian). By saying this is my country and our country...it acknowledges that lethargy is unacceptable.
I mean we have to take a stand and step up...
if we want National Cookie Day to be a federal holiday.
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
The Breakthrough
I became a writer four years ago. Before I just wrote, but I wasn't a writer. Make sense?
There's a difference between being a writer and being someone who writes. What is that difference?
Work.
Lots of lots of work.
Writing isn't fun for writers. Each day I come in after work and a dread sinks in. "Oh I have to write." What do I want to do? I want to watch HuluPlus or Netflix. Play guitar. Watch movies. Any form of procrastination. The Atlantic published an article about writers and procrastination which describes procrastination as a "peculiarly common occupational hazard." Oh do I ever want to procrastinate and just lay down, chill, after working 8 hours.
Nope. I have to write. Notice the "have to." There's no choice. Everyday I have to bring up a Word document, stare at a blank white digitized page and try to figure out how to improve upon that blank white digitized page.
I have to write something. I have to write crap, so much crap, in order to find something worthwhile. This is writing. Writing crap, so much crap. This is real writing. There's no writer's block, just scrapped writing.
Before 2010, I wrote but it wasn't as a writer. The sparks weren't there for creativity. The discipline wasn't there for writing. I was a journalism kid, as opposed to a drama kid or a jock. I dedicated myself to the Raider's Log, my high school newspaper, as a film critic and the entertainment editor. I didn't write creatively, however. I didn't know how, or I told myself I didn't know how.
Here's the secret to start writing: write. Write! WRITE! Write anything!
It won't look good. Your first spurts of writing will look like drivel. No one told me that, really. Well I'm telling you that. Writing isn't magic. It may seem like that...no, no, no.
In all fairness I did try to write a bit. I wrote a poem in binary language called "Electric." I also wrote a poem that parodied the quote "Fortune Favors the Brave." There was an interest in participating in the Young Georgia Authors in 12th grade. I had an idea of a story involving a dialogue between Hamlet and Beowulf. The setting would be a graveyard of dead literary characters. Hamlet and Beowulf would be debating on how to defeat life: Hamlet's argument was life had to be defeated through deep thinking and Beowulf argued life should be defeated through force and through vigilance.
My English teacher from 11th grade argued to me that I should write this and submit it. I never did it. I never wrote a word relating this story. I made excuses for myself. Those excuses are useless.
There was a part of me that understood that I was going to be a writer in some capacity. In 5th grade I wrote a story about a lion who learned to talk because I gave him ritalin. I still don't believe I've topped that story, but it seeded this idea of being a writer, but a crippling self-consciousness and sense of failure let me to prevent myself from writing.
A crippling self-consciousness and a sense of failure are useless excuses.
What was my breakthrough, then? What happened four years ago that led me to become a writer?
When I got in college I didn't major in English or any related field...at first. I majored in Biology. That's right. I wanted to be a neurologist because I wanted to make money and I thought it was legitimately fascinating. I still love science and biology. Taking Theatre Appreciation, however, led me to realize that I couldn't forgive myself for continuing this field. I saw a production of Stephen Massicotte's Mary's Wedding at my college and I realized I had to make this. I had to somehow live up to my dreams in high school, in middle school, and commit to creating something.
Writing was always something I could do but in a more academic sense. I certainly displayed an acumen for writing essays and academic papers. That wasn't my interest, ultimately. I didn't want a PhD. in Comparative Literature (which is a fine field, by the way). I wanted to have poems published, to write scripts that I can turn into movies.
Therefore I changed my major to Theatre. I was going to commit to creating something. At first I was a slow starter but I realized that I owed myself something. Theatre was great because there are no closets to hide one's art. It has to be put in front of an audience. What I created, in any artistic capacity, had to be put on a stage. I had to put up or shut up.
At the same time I took a Creative Writing class with Dorothy Blais. This was my start. I engaged in writing and came to terms with my love of poetry and dialogue. It was a start, but I wasn't a writer. I wrote in spurts and writing in spurts doesn't make one a writer. I wrote a handful of short stories and some poems. It was escalating to me becoming a writer, no doubt. When I was an assistant stage manager for Sarah Ruhl's Eurydice I had very few backstage duties so I kept a notebook and I wrote poems. I tried to combine a poem by James Galvin with the war poetry of Wilfred Owen to compare a marriage falling apart to war.
Ultiamtely these were only first drafts, which I would leave behind, and exclusively writing first drafts isn't what a writer does.
My theatre program required a capstone project and initially I aspired to direct a play as I wanted to direct films. It made sense...but no one wanted to collaborate with me because I had no experience directing. After stressing out to the point of having dreams of my hair falling out I realized that if I take Advanced Directing, I'll be directing a one act play. So why not use this opportunity to write a play like I always wanted? Dorothy Blais, my creative writing professor was also a playwright. She become my mentor and I began working on a play.
This was my breakthrough because this was when I began developing the discipline and process of writing. I wrote a play entitled The Five Stages of Baldness that would have a staged reading.
This was my breakthrough. I didn't write in spurts. I wrote everyday. I wrote five drafts. I would reread my script and try to figure out how to solve an issue. This scene isn't working because the protagonist appears mean in how he interacts with this girls and the audience needs to root for him. What if the protagonist doesn't win the argument? What if the girls outdo him and outsmart him? I would conceive of possible solutions in a journal and translate them into dialogue or a scene.
I had the staged reading and it received a positive reaction.
Applause is addictive.
Writing happens through attrition, like Grant and Lee in the Battle of the Wilderness kind of attrition. Writing requires writing everyday, or writing the majority of the week. It means that no matter how busy one is there is an increment of room to write in one's day. An individual doesn't need a MFA to write because one works so hard and being in a writing program is the only way one can possibly write. I work 40-44 hours a day. I come home everyday and I bring up that Word Document and I have to write at least one page. It may be on a project I'm working on like a script or a poem. It may be a journal on how to solve something in a project. It may be academic or a blog post. I have to write at least one page. It doesn't take just a handful of time to write one page.
Through The Five Stages of Baldness I reached the breakthrough I needed. I reached that point of realizing that writing is work, it's labor. Just like learning a riff on guitar requires being off time at first, or slow builds, writing requires steady steps and wasted papers or documents. It requires revision. Writing isn't typing or the physical act of picking up a pen and writing words. Writing, true writing, is sculpting. It's placing gestated thoughts on a document that serves as a mold of marble and figuring out how to whittle it down into something meaningful. It's about design, plotlines, loglines, journal work. Writing is a desktop folder filled endlessly with supplementary work on characters, dialogue, documents labeled "draft 01/06/2013."
That's writing. That's the breakthrough anyone reading this requires as a writer. One needs to find a moment, write a page, and work. One has to put the work in. That's the breakthrough.
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