Monday, November 29, 2010

'The Old Man and the Sea'

It's been so long since I've blogged, I hope I remember how! I'm sitting here at The Day's Inn in Austin, Texas, feeling a little lonely tonight. I've failed at finding a place to live, so tomorrow I'll be trying a little 'truck camping' while I work on the shelter part of things. Like so many things I've done in my life, meticulous planning isn't always one of them, and perhaps I jumped the gun by not having things lined up a little better. Give me a play or a production, I can plan it down to the sweeping of the floors, but ask me to focus on my own life, I don't do so well. Still, as dire as my situation seems to be, I have a strange calm about it all. Perhaps there is a beauty in the sometimes compulsive and enthusiastic behavior, if my brain were leading, I might not have made it on this wild ride that has been the last three years, (and really, the whole of my life). I'm probably a little hard on myself, as I've only been here a week, and I've filled out lots of job applications and talked to lots of restaurant managers about playing music, but haven't even landed an interview. I know all of you want me to succeed, and I do feel your support, perhaps talking about it tonight will help me think it through. I find when I'm in situations like I am now, it sometimes takes me days of processing to get to the solutions. Its plain to me now, however, that I had to many expectations, and should have had an apartment lined up before I got here. I'm sure if I can just survive here another week or so, the bread I have cast upon the water will come back with some jam, so I will have to trust. Sometimes, I wish someone could just sweep me off my feet and take care of me completely for awhile. I know it sounds selfish, but right now I feel tired, very alone, and a little bit like The Old man and the Sea, with that big fish pulling me around Austin in a truck that's increasingly leaking oil. I admit, although I really do feel like the bohemian cowboy right now, to some I must seem as though I'm drifter precariously close and to being homeless. Then again, I've never tried being homeless before, and because I'm sober, I could probably be very creative in the way I could make it work. I could probably find some other homeless playwrights, maybe even a musician or two. Oddly, it sounds romantic and very doable at this moment. Tonight, the bed at The Day's Inn will seem a beautiful luxury.

"Tonight there'll be no laughing, tonight there'll be no song,
the letters on the table there will linger there til' dawn.
Take down the shrine, wrap pictures up, still the anxious sound,
put out the flame, face the blame, plant memories in the ground..."

Now, for the upside of things. Austin is still the city that fits me in every way. It gives me the city, the cowboys, the artists, the music, and it is a city full of possibility. I know that I will eventually make it work, and I can feel an amazing ride coming soon. Don't worry about me, just send your thoughts my way, and I will find my way.

Thanks so much to my mom, who talked me through an anxious spell today, how do mom's always know what to say? I have never met another artist who has the prospective, the wisdom, and the psychic energy that she has. read her blog.

Thanks to Cate who is working to get my website up, and to Jeremy who is editing my video. Thanks to Diana, who I know loves me in spite of the confusion that is my circumstance right now. I'm just a little tired and anxious. Most days the world seems like mine to conquer, today, however, I feel like a speck of sand on a desert island beach. The human condition is bearing down so hard today. Thanks to my family and the friends who really do know me. Lastly, thanks to the universe, who always comes through, but do you always have to wait until 11:59pm?


Gerry said...

I know you are betwixt and between. If the truck is leaking oil, you might have to become homeless in Austin and work from that angle, just know that whatever you decide to do we are going to support you. Good blog tonight so we know what is happening. You are certainly not alone hovering on the brink of being homeless, and your instinct was to get to Austin, so maybe it is the place. You can always come back home to Phoenix and be welcome. So 'open up your heart and let the sunshine in' and have faith you will survive the best of times and worst of times. They will try your soul and give you the knowledge that you don't have to be afraid of anything. The universe is taking care of you. I think of Jack London in the Yukon hunting for gold and getting scurvy so bad he can't work and has to come back home. He rode the rails as a hobo when so many were out of work and survived on a job here and there, wrote about it and moved the world. Men have to adventure and take risks to feel alive, so do women. Just don't forget the writing about it. Mom

Anonymous said...

Deny me the parable of my life
And I will surely fire upon you
The wrath of my youth
Deny from me the right to burn my world to ashes with unyielding passion
And I will surely spit upon your doorstep my need to take
I fight
I bow
I fight
Deny me the choice to need you
I will need you anyway but in an obstinate and unhealthy manner
Deny from me the shelter of your embrace
And I will reflect in your mirror your own human error
In hindsight.
You fight
You bow
You fight
Deny my Insecurity the need to battle fiercely in the face of adversity
You will cause your own suicidal wound
from broken shards of misunderstanding
Deny from me simplicity
I will become a mirage contrived of all that has soured
Our past.
It fights
It bows
It fights
Hard in battle-ground of doubt
It’s cheerleader, the underdog, constantly wrestles to free itself
From a mended leash of indication
But still
It fights
Twelve minutes and three seconds longer than a lifetime

caroline said...

Cheering you on, Raymond... said...

Good luck in finding your way in Austin...who knew Austin was so magical? People just want to go there whether it makes sense or not. I don't understand, but there are people that know people.
I hope you can find a gig that works and a life that allows you to eat. said...

I like that poem anonymous wrote.

bess said...

your like a clipper ship captain, your married to the sea.
yes, but i have been out to sea for a long time.