Would you lend me a Q for my A?

I think I know my issue with blogs. I can't help but feel like I am talking into a vacuum. I'm not used to that, I am used to feedback. On stage, I get instant feedback. Even if there is no sounds of laughing or coughing, I can feel when the room is focused on the story, on the moment of interaction. I hate to admit it, but as much as I pretend to be a writer (I do enjoy being on my own), I am an actor, and I need people, I need conversation, I need interaction. What I've really felt writing this blog is that while I may have an audience in mind (albeit one person, depending on my mood), I'm really writing to no one, at least that is my feeling on this end. Doesn't that sound so whiney and camp? "Ooh, poor poor me, wasting my fingers away on this cold, plastic mat, coated with the most basic elements of language with nobody to share it with." Yeah. Lame. Ignore that bit, that's the actory side of me. Now, the equally vain but deeper part of me wants this to be a dialogue, or conversation. At least less of me talking to the Great Wall of the internet.

Man, I remember my metaphors being much more intelligent. I thought doing a lot of reading today would have helped that bit. Oh well. Here's what it is: I want questions. I want to answer questions. I do have thoughts all day long, but it gets tiring answering my own questions, especially when if I know I'm the only one listening, I won't surprise myself with the answers. I only surprise myself when I'm talking with other [real] people. Like when you have a problem that's bugging you, and the second you ask someone else about it you get the answer. That's what it's like, but I am also aware that when the pressure is on, that's how writing is. When I've truly had pressure to write, the most amazing connections and solutions come out of me, because I can't rely on time and thinking, only on the moment and how brilliantly ideas coalesce, like turning coal into diamonds with heat and pressure. Then again I sometimes get ridiculously long sentences. Short ones too. For effect.

All my ramblings aside, I want questions. Whatever they are. Bring me the heat and pressure.

Running through walls

I set out the new year with a plan to create a regimented schedule to assure I would get things done. Turns out I not only need a schedule, but I need to stick with it! That's craziness.

I want to work more seriously on my web series, mainly writing it and getting the pilot episode polished up so I can use it to get funding for the rest of the season. Turns out other people aren't hiring me for my dream job, so I have to conjure it up. I am getting hired for other (non-paying) roles, which take up some time, especially when one is an obscure Shakespeare work.

Work, that's taking up time too, the job, the thing that gives me money and health insurance. Then family and friends. You know, those things that make life happen. I've let all that fog up my path and I've slowed down to a crawl making sure I don't run into anything in a blind run. I think that might be the wrong approach (or at least not the best one). I cannot wait for the fog to lift to keep going. I need to pretend like I know where the road goes already. What I need to do is the scary thing and keep on running into the unknown, knowing it's the right way.

Maybe this is "the wall" all runners who finish the race go through. It's not a solid thing that tangibly blocks your path, but more of an atmosphere that you knew would be there, but are still surprised at finding yourself enveloped by. Okay then wall; you can stay right where you're at, but I am not. You don't need to do anything, I'm just going to run right through you.

Deal with it.

If I hit a tree, it happens. It won't kill me (unless, maybe if it's a whomping willow). One thing I do know, I'm not going to fall off anything. There's ground under my feet and I'm about to discover more every step of the way.

A Message from the Mat

Apparently a stunt person's job is mostly falling. I spent the last two days doing the more exotic jobs of the stunt team: wire work. I've done impossible Matrix-style flips in the air, been picked up and thrown against the wall like Spiderman on a bad day, and jerked through the air by pneumatics like I was right next to a huge explosion. All that, suffice it to say, was awesome. That was the candy. The other side was working as a puller to help other people achieve these same impossible tasks. That is all about watching. In fact, the entire weekend was about focus. Not focusing on what you're doing, per se, because that generally caused over-thinking and educational experiences. With all the notions of working with timing, location, blocking, trust in a team, ready to hit your mark when action is called and everything else that goes with that kind of work, the two possibly most important elements are breathing and where you are looking. If you don't breathe, you can't live, so how can you be super-human without air? Moreover, you go where your eyes go. If you look at the ground, well that's where you're going. These are the same two things that have been haunting me (in a good way) all my life. I have a pretty good idea where I want to be, it's just staying focused on that. Now is a very big distraction. I want to focus on what is directly in front of me, which is important, but if I stay focus on that, then that's where I will stay. It's like trying to look at a particular star, but following a bird, then a cloud, then a plane, then going inside because it's raining. A lesson from the pros is that you look at where you want to go; your peripheral vision will tell you what you need to know, and the ground will always be there, whether you are touching it or not, and don't close your eyes for a second or you will miss something very important. ...and keep breathing. If you have those two things, I think you're pretty good and already a bit super-human.