Justification, discovery and belief

For what it is worth, which is much to me, I don't believe in settling in a negative sense. . .I've never known someone who has claimed settlement negatively and not been gripped with an ennui of regret and an excuse of tortured eyes, a dismissive tone in their valid accomplishments, and a torch burning so bright for something that is not impossible, that it blinds the steps taken, so they can be made towards the goals that they chose with eyes darting to the next downfall. I've known many who have made sacrifices, for many reasons, and I can include myself in that group, and we have done so to get to the next step- the next precipice- the next great unknown. And it's terrifying and invigorating. I've also learned that blindness to those steps, whether it be clouded in regret or drama or whatever vice is chosen, debilitates the beauty of those steps chosen to be taken. Those steps inform your journey, no matter what. Whether you choose to decide them, or allow them to be decided, doesn't matter. We are in our element when we embrace what we have, and implement what we want. It is that fucking simple.

To bolster this idea, I'll use my own growing story. As I write this tonight, I am scared shitless about what my life will become, if I am lucky enough to live long enough to accomplish half of the goals I've set out toward. That's a pretty good incentive, as it is, and one that was instilled by my family, to whom I was clearly the trouble-child, the non-conformist, and the one who carries the torch of all we were taught. A torch that helps me understand those who attach themselves to the negative form of settling. My family is comprised of educators and academics. Brilliant artists, too. My writing will never hold a candle to my father's poeticism. My painting(or sewing skills) will never be nearly so expert and precise as my mothers, nor will I ever have the meticulous patience or skill that my step-father has for color saturation. I will never have the visual aptitude, or the drawing sensibilty that Susan has, nor will I ever have the intense appreciation, knowledge, encouragement and articulation of art that Anne has built so effortlessly. I could mire under the weight of ineptitude in comparison with my family. The influence of this admiration and clear appreciation is what makes my work what it is. I love it- it is messy and precise, funny and extending, wonky and interpretive. It is what it is, and it is clearly my voice, from a generation of influence.

I understand my place in my family, for this reason, and I am lucky for this. When I decided to move out to Los Angeles, after how many moves? New York, Memphis, Atlanta, Chicago, I was scared to death to tell them, even though they had clearly seen both the successes and failures incurred in each city. I could have stayed in New York. I could have stayed in Memphis. I could have stayed in Chicago. Had I done so, I'd have negatively settled. The hardest thing about leaving Chicago was not leaving Striding Lion, it was telling my family that I was on the move again.

And they were relieved, which was a great support. And I was excited and following multiple dreams- some that were manifested the dream of California, as an actor, some that were dreams of the heart, as I had been led first with that, as I always am, and finally the dream of moving forward with adventure and hope, because I was lucky enough to do so. So, I did.

I drove out here in order to set a meditation of crossing at least some of the beautiful land of this country. To finally see it, because I could. Through Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona, I found myself turning off my ipod, and driving along in silence, mouth agape. I paced the journey with a photo documentation of a Mr. Potato-head. Some of these photos were sent to a person who held my heart, when I felt alone. I never was alone. I had my family, I had my friends, I had the absurdity of my Mr. Potato-head documentation.

Since moving out here, I have found a reconnection with some of my dearest friends. I found that the person who first turned my eyes and focus out here was drenched in excuses and dismissal, once the awareness that identified our relationship was clear, and there was no way to turn that around.I don't regret that, as it's not my regret to take, but i acknowledge it, and assure that I will never make those decisions in my world, which I protect and in which I believe. I've been out here for only four months and have incurred confusion, exultation, loss, dismissal, wonder and a myriad of other experiences. Sunny skies and unexpected drenchings. What strikes me about this transition is that, above everything else, I have built the awareness and luck to appreciate that which is clear: Clarity and truth are far more settling than manipulation or dishonesty. When my eyes close for good, they won't be wounded. Rather, they will be full of the wisdom that is continually built and shared. The art that I create is consistently built of those moments of transition, leading to the next. It is full of characters, interpretation, stasis and corrupted settling. A mirror, perhaps, of a wayward journey that is constantly found and accessible. I can't wait to see how it manifests when I have finally settled, and the wayward aspect is an influence, rather than an apex. To use a cheap navigation metaphor- I've definitely entered a phase where I'm comfortable with my role as a rudder, playing direction and skewing. I have a distinct feeling that the Anchor phase is presenting itself, and that is great. Of course, it will begin in a city that is famous for both it's fascination with constant filming,the make-believe believabilty and the unstable constitution of the land upon which we stand. Perhaps the treat of an earthquake actually works better for me- I'm accustomed to tornadoes, blizzards and terrible driving conditions. All of which can be forseen. It's terrifying to me to build upon both literal and metaphoric instability. Sigh. And I love challenges. So, here goes- I'm suddenly in a place of few responsibilities, beautiful weather, reinvention around every corner huddled with the experience to know that reinvention is nothing more than an introduction. I like that. A lot.