Last weekend, I had the pleasure of seeing a new(ish) musical at St. Louis Repertory Theatre (shout out to Brother Jake for hooking me up with a ticket). The show was entitled “Title of Show,” and if you haven’t seen it, I highly suggest that you do if you get the chance, especially if you’re a theatre person. It tells the story of four people trying to write a musical about themselves writing a musical, from its early stages to its off-broadway premiere, and some stuff after that. It chronicles the challenges they face in getting their show on its feet, including the hardships their friendships face and the moral and ethical ramifications that come with their project. It’s uproariously funny, wildly inventive, a little bit sad, and touching in ways I never would have expected. This might be premature, but I think I would even go so far as to say it was life-changing. Here’s why…
As I’m sure anyone who’s been reading this blog lately already knows, I’ve been in kind of a slump lately, both creatively and personally. I’ve been trying to figure a lot of things out and be more proactive. I walked into this show with all of these doubts and disappointments hanging over my head like one of those cartoon rainclouds that follows individuals around, but I walked out feeling like I could conquer the world if I felt like it. The show got me thinking about many great things, but firstly and (I think) most importantly, it gave a name to my problem: Vampires.
One character in the show defines a Vampire as “any person or thought or feeling that stands between you and your creative self expression.” Though the show sort of limits this idea of vampirism to the arts, I think it absolutely applies to life as well. I frequently have positive thoughts about my work and my future, but stupid things always get in the way and fog everything up. Now I know those stupid things have been vampires all this time. Now I know to have my stake at the ready.
Another thing in the show that really struck a chord with me was the characters’ declaration that they’d “rather be nine people’s favorite thing than a hundred people’s ninth-favorite thing.” It’s so simple I can’t believe I haven’t heard it before. This show made me realize that the only person I need to please is myself. If what I do makes someone else happy, that’s wonderful. But there are no guarantees, so why bother stressing about it? So what if someone else doesn’t like how I dress, what I make, what I like, how I think, or what I do? You can’t please everyone, so the very least you can hope for is to please the person you have to live with at all times: yourself. So what if you get a job interview but no job? Maybe you’re just not their thing. That’s okay; you can’t be everyone’s thing. They’re a vampire, anyway. Who needs a vampires? Not you. Move on and find something else.
Afer several days of reflection, I’m proud to say that I’ve started killing off my vampires. Since this show revolutionized my way of thinking, I’ve begun writing a children’s musical, I’ve subbed 3 days in a row, and I even have a job interview in a couple days. Things might not go as I hope they will, but there’s always tomorrow.
Morte, vampir morte!
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Glass Houses.
In this chaotic mess of people, places, things, events and attitudes known as life, it's easy to get bogged down by the litany of craziness, confusion and negativity that is constantly being spewed our way. But sometimes, perfect moments of clarity emerge from the sludge, helping us to understand things about life that are hard to pin down on our own. I had one such moment today.
Today's story actually begins yesterday. Yesterday, I made an attempt to leave my snow-covered driveway. Long story short: I shoveled a great deal and made a lot of headway before finally getting stuck in a snowdrift at an odd angle and giving up. Later, when I asked my brother to come help me get out, he asked me how in the world I ended up getting the car stuck at such a strange angle, and then laughing at me as if I were a little kid trying to bake a cake using whole eggs, shells included. I didn't complain; I was glad to have help getting out. But still, it got on my nerves.
Even at dinner with my family, the topic of Mabel (my Sable) getting stuck in the driveway came up. They wanted to know how on earth I ended up getting stuck that way. Again with this? Using the rectangular container that holds the Splenda and the Sweet-N-Low, I demonstrated how on earth I ended up getting stuck that way. This time, my brother PLUS both parents got to laugh at my earlier misfortune and apparent inability to handle a car in winter in Missouri.
And then the tables turned a bit. My brother left to go back to college today. Mom, Dad and I followed him out of our neighborhood, as we were headed to an extended family gathering. We rounded the last curve before getting to the main road, and lo and behold, Jake's car was stuck in a snowdrift. In fact, the scenario was practically the same as mine. This time, the parents wanted to know how on earth HE had gotten stuck in the manner he did. So now, I was a part of the group who finagled and pushed HIS car out of the snow. I somehow managed to be the nice brother and keep my "who's laughing now?"s to myself, and I'm very glad I did.
Anyway, this experience taught me that you get what you give. I think that'll be one of my resolutions for 2010. When faced with the choice of ridiculing someone or keeping my yap shut, I will make a conscious effort to keep my yap shut. No one likes to be made fun of, so why not be supportive and encouraging when other people blunder? I'm hardly a spiritual person, but I do believe things that go around have a way of coming around. I've seen it happen.
Don’t throw stones if you live in a glass house. And I’ve got news for you: You live in a glass house. Everyone does. You might think you don't, but you do. Stop throwing stuff.
Today's story actually begins yesterday. Yesterday, I made an attempt to leave my snow-covered driveway. Long story short: I shoveled a great deal and made a lot of headway before finally getting stuck in a snowdrift at an odd angle and giving up. Later, when I asked my brother to come help me get out, he asked me how in the world I ended up getting the car stuck at such a strange angle, and then laughing at me as if I were a little kid trying to bake a cake using whole eggs, shells included. I didn't complain; I was glad to have help getting out. But still, it got on my nerves.
Even at dinner with my family, the topic of Mabel (my Sable) getting stuck in the driveway came up. They wanted to know how on earth I ended up getting stuck that way. Again with this? Using the rectangular container that holds the Splenda and the Sweet-N-Low, I demonstrated how on earth I ended up getting stuck that way. This time, my brother PLUS both parents got to laugh at my earlier misfortune and apparent inability to handle a car in winter in Missouri.
And then the tables turned a bit. My brother left to go back to college today. Mom, Dad and I followed him out of our neighborhood, as we were headed to an extended family gathering. We rounded the last curve before getting to the main road, and lo and behold, Jake's car was stuck in a snowdrift. In fact, the scenario was practically the same as mine. This time, the parents wanted to know how on earth HE had gotten stuck in the manner he did. So now, I was a part of the group who finagled and pushed HIS car out of the snow. I somehow managed to be the nice brother and keep my "who's laughing now?"s to myself, and I'm very glad I did.
Anyway, this experience taught me that you get what you give. I think that'll be one of my resolutions for 2010. When faced with the choice of ridiculing someone or keeping my yap shut, I will make a conscious effort to keep my yap shut. No one likes to be made fun of, so why not be supportive and encouraging when other people blunder? I'm hardly a spiritual person, but I do believe things that go around have a way of coming around. I've seen it happen.
Don’t throw stones if you live in a glass house. And I’ve got news for you: You live in a glass house. Everyone does. You might think you don't, but you do. Stop throwing stuff.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
The Most Horrible Time of the Year
Winter used to be my favorite season. I loved playing in the snow, kicking icicles off of cars, obsessing over Christmas, seeing my favorite relatives, and going to bed anticipating the possibility of a snow day, among other things. I'm not sure when this change happened, but winter means something altogether different to me now. Now I stress about the condition of the roads, complain about the coldness of my house, dread prolonged family visits, miss my friends terribly and dwell on my fears and insecurities. Now winter means being isolated from most sources of happiness. Not even Christmas is the same, now that I've realized I don't really believe in the significance of its origins. Don't get me wrong, I still happily participate in the holiday festivities, but my heart just isn't in it like it used to be.
I remember a time when it was enough to be at home with my family during these winter holidays. That was when I belonged in this house and my biggest problems were deciding how to spend my birthday money and making sure I didn't poke Q-tips too far into my ear. But as I've grown, my problems have multiplied and mutated. I'm 21, a college graduate, virtually jobless, living in my parents' basement. Now I feel like I've become a burden, the guest that won't leave. The Ouija board that will keep coming back, no matter how many times you try to throw it out. I do love my family a great deal, but the time of blissfully ignorant childhood has passed. I constantly crave company that I'm not related to. That's just another confusing, bittersweet part of growing up, I guess.
And I'm just so lonely. I have many friends who are very dear to me, and I know I would die without them, but they can't be with me at all times. I've been doing my best to not bother them. I understand that I am not at the top of very many people's priority list, and that's fine. I just want to be able to hibernate during those gaps between hanging out with people. No matter how nice my visit is, I'll still be going home alone with no one to interact with other than the monsters in my mind.
I know I'm really whining here, but I feel like I need need to explore this melancholy a bit before I try to dissolve it. I'm in the Wallowing Stage. I'm not sure what stage comes next, but hopefully it comes soon. My good buddy iTunes is acting as my nurse at this time. Sooner or later, I'll be back in the mood for upbeat jigs and percussive jams. Until then, my life is tortured strings and dreary pianos. Until I've found new things to love about winter, I need a new favorite season. Spring's on the distant horizon, so why not that?
I remember a time when it was enough to be at home with my family during these winter holidays. That was when I belonged in this house and my biggest problems were deciding how to spend my birthday money and making sure I didn't poke Q-tips too far into my ear. But as I've grown, my problems have multiplied and mutated. I'm 21, a college graduate, virtually jobless, living in my parents' basement. Now I feel like I've become a burden, the guest that won't leave. The Ouija board that will keep coming back, no matter how many times you try to throw it out. I do love my family a great deal, but the time of blissfully ignorant childhood has passed. I constantly crave company that I'm not related to. That's just another confusing, bittersweet part of growing up, I guess.
And I'm just so lonely. I have many friends who are very dear to me, and I know I would die without them, but they can't be with me at all times. I've been doing my best to not bother them. I understand that I am not at the top of very many people's priority list, and that's fine. I just want to be able to hibernate during those gaps between hanging out with people. No matter how nice my visit is, I'll still be going home alone with no one to interact with other than the monsters in my mind.
I know I'm really whining here, but I feel like I need need to explore this melancholy a bit before I try to dissolve it. I'm in the Wallowing Stage. I'm not sure what stage comes next, but hopefully it comes soon. My good buddy iTunes is acting as my nurse at this time. Sooner or later, I'll be back in the mood for upbeat jigs and percussive jams. Until then, my life is tortured strings and dreary pianos. Until I've found new things to love about winter, I need a new favorite season. Spring's on the distant horizon, so why not that?
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