I need to write again. To draw again. To create again.
It's going to be hard to do, as I do not handle structured assignments well,
get easily discouraged, and to be very blunt, there are moments where I do not
give my words validation. Frankly, there are moments where I do not respect or
even believe in my words. But given my recent period of disconnect, I know what
I must do.
Of late, I have been having epic nightmares. For over a
month now, they have been plaguing my sleep and my well being. I am not going
to go into details of them. Not because they are too scary or that I offend
someone. But because I don't want to play dream analysis. The number of books I
have read on the subject were enough for me to never want to read another one.
I have seen so many different interpretations of what a red car means that it
boggles the mind. Anyone can write one of these. Just make a list of items, and
guess their meaning. If you do this and publish it, you may not have a best
seller on your hands, but you will have a book that will make you a comfortable
dog biscuit and car wash budget out of dollar store customers for the rest of
your life.
The events in my dreams are not truly fantastic. They
are, for the most part, everyday events that you can clearly see in your own
life. The difference in them, however, is that instead of being directed by
action, they are directed by psyche. Your hopes and fears are what drives the
scenes in my head. Not an action sequence or a plot. Perhaps this is why I
struggle as a writer/filmmaker/musician. I am not getting the medium and the
vision correctly lined up.
Incidentally, I have figured out what I truly am. Per a
conversation with my friend, Michael Varrati, I have come to the conclusion
that I am truly a performer. That moniker is not only easier to say, but it is
very, very accurate. Growing up, I never had that "I wanna be a..."
as part of my being. There was never that one and only thing that I was
convinced I was going to become. Along the journey, I have done a lot of things,
and explored a lot of arts. In my past, I have been a radio DJ (not in the
club, with 50 Cent), actor, producer, assistant director, writer, illustrator,
musician, singer, and lyricist. But truth be known, I have never dedicated
myself to those with 100% of my being.
Why? I do not know. I'll explore that at a later time, as
I have gone past my segue limit from the main topic. To wrap it up, my ability
to embrace an medium and exert enough effort, passion and willpower to keep
pace with my peers in those fields is pretty remarkable. I have recently come
to the conclusion that if my life were to be compared to a radio system, my
transmitter and my receiver are completely out of synch, and have been
operating incorrectly for more years than I previously thought. I need to stop
what I am doing, and give both sides a chance to find balance.
Therefore, let's look at dreams.
I do not have the ability to go into other peoples'
minds, and I certainly don't want anyone in mine. So I am not sure if what I am
going to say will be either redundant or mind-blowing. But in the world of my
dreams, there is no fantastic imagery. The world of my dreams, my physical
shell of the world where they take place, is taken from fragments of my life.
The architecture remains intact, but not whole. An example of this would be
that in a recent dream, I was living in a house that was part house, and part
place of business. Upon further review, I dissected that I took one half of my
friends house, one half of a garage my Dad worked at, and literally slammed
them together.
Homes and business and places that can be normally found
hundreds of miles away from the other can be found side by side. Short
distances between previously established places can become marathon with the
addition of endless fields and massive hills between them. And the Pittsburgh T
runs all the way up to Alaska and Canada in my dreams. Again, in and of itself,
it's not all that fantastic, but the architecture of my dreams does tend to
lend itself to a bizarre pattern based more on psyche than on function.
That is where I think art truly is, in life. More on your
emotions and your imagination than serving a particular functionality or service.
I would rather write and perform music that reflects my true
voice/feelings/experience than to write a poppy number that will sell a product
on TV. Financially, it's a bad decision. From my own standpoint, it couldn't
make any more sense to be true to one's self.
I am in the process of figuring all of this out. Of dissecting
every single piece of my being, finding what works, and learning how everything
works. And if it is something that does not work or can't possibly serve a good
purpose, I will let it go. Not get rid of it, but rather let it go. There are
certain things you can't get rid of in your life, for one reason of another.
That is why we have junk drawers in our home. We use them to keep things that
do not have purpose at the moment, but as need arises, we turn to the recently
discarded and forgotten to bring sense to the present.
And in case you wondered, here is what I have in mine:
27 AAA batteries
A small black velvet bag containing parts for a digital
recorder
Box of heavy duty staples
A street sweeping schedule for the City of Dormont
A big green bungee cord
A pair of walkie talkies
An old knife with an eagle's head handle, in an old,
frayed leather case with the name Mike Kelm written on the back
2 mercury light bulbs
6 small metal shelf fasteners
A big white permanent marker
2 screen door window fasteners
A black gel pen
A blue gel pen
Small roll of duct tape
My old cell phone
Spare keys
A baggie containing pieces for playing backgammon
2 rubber stoppers
A spare nozzle for my kitchen sink
A staple remover that kind of looks like a cobra
12 small wood screws
1 nail
Twist ties
A small green plastic shot glass filled with thumbtacks
Again, there are the pieces that we have, and what we
desire to create. I am now at a point in my life where I am questioning how to
create again using the pieces I have already. Can I use the pieces I have to
create what I dream for? Do I know how to use the pieces correctly? Where can I
learn how to use them? Where can I find new pieces to add to the collection?
Our dreams are our true selves. Or are they a reflection?
I don't really know anymore. For me, the bad dreams stem from my own fears,
insecurities, and anxieties played out in front of me. And since they are very
close to my waking life, they tend to affect me more than one would think.
There are some definite themes that I can recognize, and will have to deal with
in order to find peace. Nothing small, of course. Just the sort of fears that
tend to make you not want to open your mouth about them.
Side note: as I typed that last sentence, my legs started twitching like a
dog getting its belly scratched.
Do I need to know everything? No. I just need to learn
what works and what doesn't so that I don't waste any more time than is
necessary in my life. I just turned 40, and don't let the critics tell you
otherwise, but it does tend to change how you view yourself and the world
around you. I don't think I am at a
point of mid-life crisis. I could be wrong on that, to be sure. But for me, I
used to joke when I was younger that my mid-life crisis would involve my
growing a mullet and becoming a country music singer. I don't know if it's that
pronounced, or if it's in the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) questioning
of your existence.
It's time to start the process of building. This was a
start. So much more to see and do, create and critique, explore and chart, find
and keep, discover and educate. As I look towards the rising sun out of my
window, I know that the journey has already begun.
5-12-2012
