THE IRONY OF THE ARTIST

(Photo: Keith Dolge; Bellingham Theatre Guild's Production of Oklahoma!)


Life is incredibly ironic. When I was a child, I always wanted to be a famous performer--not necessarily good at my craft (In my childlike way, I naturally assumed I was good, so that was never a worry!), but I was more focused on the "famous" stuff, because that was how I was going to live the life that I dreamed of. Hah! Flash forward thirty years and ask me what I am focused on now...survival.

At times it seems that society only values art as much as it is used to help others gauge our value. We view ourselves as cool or a person to be envied when we own a fabulously expensive or rare painting, or when we manage to score tickets to the latest Broadway show, even if 12 year-olds dancing around naked make us feel uncomfortable. It's strange how we seem to value the arts to this degree and yet artists are the only ones who experience art for the sole purpose of understanding our humanity. Artists are the leaders of thought, and yet they are not able to reap the monetary rewards of that knowledge. It's the "blind and dumb" as I call them "faking it and making it to the top" with a big cashout. Where's the logic in this? Maybe that's changing. With the advent of this "fame epidemic," the term brilliantly ascribed to our state of affairs by American Idol's Simon Cowell a few years back, perhaps there are more "real" artists being born to save our world, which has a cultural infrastructure that is crumbling from the inside out.

I hate to be sentimental about the past, and for God's sake, I'm not THAT old, but I do feel like things have changed drastically in the worlds of art and entertainment in the last twenty years. It's a shame that we now expect less from culture. Maybe that's the machine's way of making sure we don't notice how few "real" artists out there. That way, when someone good does arrive on the scene, we're so starved that the intensity is three times what it would have been if these people had been surrounded by a slew of talented people in the first place. I was at a taping of PBS's "From the Top: Live from Carnegie Hall" last night, and there was a fine chamber music group comprised of high schoolers who were from Orange County. In his introduction of them, host Christopher O'Riley said that the group was just like the OC, but with more talent than Mischa Barton. He was absolutely right, though I couldn't believe he'd say that on national television. Thank God for editing, I guess!

In the old days, there were the "artists" and there were the regular folk. Nowadays, with the unfortunate prevalance of reality television, anyone can be a so-called "actor," "entertainer," a "bohemian," etc. I was watching "Celebrity Apprentice" tonight and the producers actually billed Omarosa as a "reality star" below her name during interviews, as if THAT'S something to aspire to. Hey, Omarosa...time called and wants its fifteen minutes of fame back!

I often feel that I missed my calling as a true artist. It would seem that life never made it feasible for me, whether it was a result of choices I made or the Universe made without consulting me. Either way, I'm sad that it didn't happen for me, since I have to have a professional career in another line of work in order to pay the bills. That takes its toll on the creative spirit that lies within me. I used to sing and act, but since I am in New York, and it's competitive even just to do community theatre, I don't do that anymore. My maskmaking, however, helps to get me through the burnout times with my "day job." I started making masks again because I am currently experiencing a great deal of boredom and burnout in my job. Of course, it comes and it goes depending on the type of project I am working on, but there is always a sense now, way more than when I was younger, that I would rather be on a stage or in a studio creating something. So with the masks, I get to channel that creative energy in a positive way that results in something important to me. Creating art can be a community experience and it can be a selfish release. For me, I must confess, it's the latter. That's unfortunate, too, because I do believe that a true artist cares about how other people experience their art. I feel a certain kinship with Frida Kahlo because she painted herself more often than not and didn't really apologize for it. There end the similarities, as my life, in general is filled with goodness and joy, while her life was filled with such great pain and suffering. My views about the purpose of arts are changing, especially the more I see the need for them. Seeing people unknowingly starve for true art has stimulated the desire in me to help bring "the good stuff" to communities and help guide their understanding of themselves and the world around them. Both society and I have a long way to go.

THANK GOD THE WRITERS' STRIKE IS OVER!

Thank God that we won't have to tolerate the same television re-runs that we have been watching since November! I pretty much have all the dialogue to episodes of "Ugly Betty" on ABC.com memorized at this point. The sucky part about the strike was that reality shows thrived. As much as I hate them, I actually got sucked into the "Celebrity Apprentice," and how could I possibly resist "American Idol?" I've been enjoying "Cashmere Mafia" and catching up on "Brothers and Sisters." That said, I'm looking forward to seeing new episodes of the smart show "Dirty Sexy Money."

Since this blog is really supposed to pertain to my niece, let me say that I miss her very much. Since I live on the East Coast and she on the West Coast, I only have the fortune of seeing her once every six months to a year. My work keeps me very busy and doesn't allow me to leave that often. My mother sent me a posed photo of her from her Tae Kwon Do class. She had the biggest smile on her face and it's clear that she takes the whole thing so seriously. I'm beginning to realize that there is nothing that this little girl can't do. My whole family is very proud of her, as well they should be. My sister and brother-in-law have raised a smart, beautiful child, who is also a good citizen (She's all about giving to kids in need at the holidays) and I think that's pretty cool. I know my sister worries that she has somehow forgotten some component in my niece's upbringing, but the truth is that she and her hubby have done a bang-up job. She is as close to perfect as a child can get...of course I'm a littled biased! If things go according to plan, I hope to see her in March or April.



Permit me to be a tad judgemental for a moment. So, I'm 38 now and trying to simplify my life. That means spend less, be less of a consumer and be more eco-friendly. Shouldn't we all be doing that? Last year, I actually bought a coat at Goodwill. It's beautiful and people tell me it looks like it cost me $500. To me that's what style is. Anyone can spend $1000 on a coat and look good in it. I live in New York City and I see tons of people, very young people, dressed in very, very expensive clothing. How are they doing this? Are they living on plastic or are they just making three times what I make? They can't be doing retail because they seem way more articulate than what Macy's or Bloomie's are hiring these days and this stuff looks way better than Century 21! Any opinions on this subject?

Well, the media is reporting that we are definitely moving into a recession that is likely to last at least four years. That's pretty depressing. It makes me glad that I didn't jump on the homeowner bandwagon a few years back. My rent is still reasonable, for New York City standards, and I still get to go out and spend money on fun things every once-in-a-while. Mostly, my four-year plan is to save and invest my money in fine art. At least I will be surrounded by beautiful things that hold their value.

ART EXPLORATION

I love art and am working to bring out the visual artist in me by creating whimsical masks. They just come when I am in the mood--haven't done one since last fall, but hopefully I will do more this winter.

Today was super-exciting because I finally figured out the geographical location of a place depicted in a watercolor painting I recently bought in Philadelphia. For a week-and-a-half, I have been trying to figure out where the hell Gallantry Point is, and I finally discovered that it is located on Saint-Pierre Island in New Foundland. This past week found me hitting the Internet and hitting my head against the wall as I tried to locate it on a map of the Eastern United States. That's the last time I assume that the "Eastern Coast" only includes the U.S. No wonder Europeans and Canadians hate us (well, besides George W. Bush!). The painting is one done anonymously by someone (an amateur, perhaps?), who apparently came in contact with a sketch from 1893 entitled "Looking West from Gallantry Point April 14,1893." Since he or she went to the trouble of painting this place, it might have been nice if they had signed and dated the damned piece! It looks to have been done between 40-50 years ago, but who knows? Anyway, I saw some interesting sketches of the region done by an American seaman in 1879 and they look very similar. Who knows if the original artist is the same. These are the crazy things that I find interesting.

MY FIRST TIME

Yes, it's my first time at blogging. I admit it..technology scares me. My friends and colleagues consider me to be pretty hip, but my old school ways seem to creep in and cause me to resist. In an attempt to allay my fears and come into the new century, I decided to join the millions of people that are already blogging and see where it goes. Surfing the web has taught me that there are a lot of people out there who have something to say--whether anyone reads them or not--so why shouldn't I get some of my views out there? Hopefully, someone will choose to read my blog and perhaps get something out of it.

I am always amazed when I meet gay people who have been blessed with successful, long-term relationships. I'm not talking five or six years, but more like twenty or twenty-five years. What do they know that I don't? I try, no really, I do! I just choose the wrong people. The fact that I'm not alone gives me some solace. It's always a fine line between those who have no life plan and those that are too ambitious. I fall somewhere in the middle and always end up with either of the extremes. The ambitiousless just want to work so that they can party and spend, and the overly ambitious have no room for anybody except #1. My life goal is to crack that code and find out why I always do that. In the meantime, finding the strength to live alone and content is my goal. I mean that in the least bitter sense. Of course I want to love and be loved, but I want the person and the timing to be right. Perhaps it would be easier if I had a type, but honestly, I don't. An old friend of mine once said that gay men want to date themselves. It makes a lot of sense, no? Afterall, in general, men don't like to adapt. They just like things the way they like them. THIS is problematic.

The other problem is alcohol. I drink, but know how to stop and don't use it as a means to forget what ails me. Am I the only one who thinks that the shame of the metaphoric "dark alleyways and bathrooms" of our gay past has been seemingly transmitted by osmosis to us from those who went before us, making our brothers and sisters dependent on their "juice" to interact and find the courage to let down their guards in order to connect? We connect, all right. We connect too quickly, skew our perceptions and end up with accelerated realities based on who we think someone is rather than who they really are or who they have accepted themselves to be. This is a problem that most people, gay or straight, have in forging successful loving relationships. I've done it and seen it a lot, so I'm putting it out there for debate.

So I guess that's it for one day. I leave with you with one way to uplift your thought. Between the moment that you get up in the morning and the moment that you arrive at your place of employment, make an effort to notice three good things. During the day, whether a co-worker rubs you the wrong way or the barista at the coffee bar gets your order wrong for the fifth time this week (A frustrating sign of the times, like having to order fast food in a foreign language), replace the experience with one of these three good things. Trust me, it will make the day seem shorter. Have a better one tomorrow! (visit http://mmlifecoaching.com/blog/getting-what-we-want…-and-keeping-it/ for more information on this philosophy).