I don't know why but I like the smell of spring and summer so much it makes me sad.
I have some confusion inside that I can't really get out right here but i think it has something to do with each of us doing things for ourselves. If everybody brought a different dish to the potluck that they liked then dinner would be far better than if everybody brought dishes that they thought would please the masses. But this is a matter of opinion. My trouble lies in my uncanny desire to spend more time figuring things out. I had a great talk with Dove at work today about art and acting. We came to the conclusion that in art, humans are making an agreement with one another, saying "you and I, we're not different. I am the same as you. Now here's my interpretation of what we both see." That's art to me. Dove took it a step further when she brought up acting, saying that acting is a person leaving themself to spiritually be somebody else. I said to that that the way I think is more scientific: acting is a person's ability to adapt to a given set of circumstances, and that's what makes humans stand out as amazing. We as creatures have a natural ability to adapt to any class or environment. We can literally be any thing or any body we choose to be. This is what makes an actor an artist, his or her ability to recognize the adaptation and manipate the circumstances so he or she will adapt most truthfully into the "character" or scene portrayed. It's why all actors and artists get so upset and so full of strain and despair - we believe our environments so completely that even when a problem's made up we find some way of believing it true and then we worry about it as if it were so. This isn't a bad thing, it's a skill to be harnessed in many layers. It's what I try to remember, that I'm just a blank slate like the rest of us, adapting daily to the circumstances I've chosen for myself. It's hecka fun, isn't it?
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Age Blog
I sometimes like to think I'm getting older. What I'm realizing is that I'm not. I wasn't 24 that long ago, just like when I was 19 I felt like I could have been thirty. I some days tell myself or ponder on the idea that with a little bit of age there should be some kind of maturity or wise awakening or responsible understanding that I should have reached, now that I've done a couple things and been a couple places. But who am I kidding? I've done very little, and I honestly haven't been outside of the western US. As of today, March 27th, 2009 I don't understand things any better now than when I sat in the Porter computer lab writing Myspace blogs, or when I swept the Safeway parking lot at 6 am and hummed the Majora's Mask theme song, or when I drove through the empty streets of central Hollywood at 2am looking at the stars, or when I stood on the Corpus Christie arena stage talking over a microphone to 7000 screaming tweens, or when I stood on the pitcher's mound after too few practices beaning batter after batter, or when we camped at Twin Lakes for the first time, or when I bleached my hair yellow...ok this is getting laundry-listy. Here's the point: as I'm getting older, I feel an obligation to act wiser and more refined, but that clashes with my internal desire to keep wondering at everything as if it were the first time I'd ever seen it. I'd still say that I have yet to see the world, and it's all out there waiting for me. I'm still a daydreaming late teen scrambling for freedom and pleasure in a world that rewards suffering and close-mindedness. I still have something to prove, and can't wait to spend the rest of my life proving it. Idealistically I will never conform. but I love society for trying. I'm as spry as the last day I ditched 12th grade, and nothing's changed. Nothing happened. I'm alive just like then. We're all secretly just bodies interacting with each other and trying to be fulfilled. It means that all those things you ever wanted to do, you still get to do them with that same ruthless love of everything. Even if it makes me seem selfish. Just Blub.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Have you ever looked at old pictures of yourself and thought, "gosh things were good"?
Have you ever stood in the moment, in some corridor at school or on a hillside overlooking the ocean with small grits of dust between your toes and thought, "Wow, I wish I could feel this way forever"?
Have you ever smelt a new smell and known that you will forever remember this time, good or bad, simply because of the nostalgic association you unconsciously will make between that new smell and what you're experiencing?
Have you ever smelt an old smell, like warm blooming jasmine or the pungent weeds of summer, or a girlfriend's cologne, or the sweat of the skin on your shoulders, or the rich wind that blows across a meadow in some desolate valley on a mountain range, and been brought back to a time of the past that you will remember with a yearning smile forever?
Have you ever savored the smell of smoke from a wildfire? Have you felt so free and sure that you knew the summer would last forever and nothing could make you go back?
There was a time we were completely, fancy-free. We ate and slept and played and worked and nothing mattered. Pain was of no consequence because we knew we would heal. Risk was menial, days were long and summers longer. Dreams weren't dreams, they were truths and we breathed and laughed and sang them into existence. People looked down on you because you were happy, others looked up. And since nothing ever changes, no matter how old we get or blinded we become by society, it's all still the same. We're still right in it.
We don't reminisce about the time we were most sensible or the path we took that was the most normal. We're awestruck by the days we spent doing things we never thought possible but did them anyway. Those are the times we remember forever.
Have you ever stood in the moment, in some corridor at school or on a hillside overlooking the ocean with small grits of dust between your toes and thought, "Wow, I wish I could feel this way forever"?
Have you ever smelt a new smell and known that you will forever remember this time, good or bad, simply because of the nostalgic association you unconsciously will make between that new smell and what you're experiencing?
Have you ever smelt an old smell, like warm blooming jasmine or the pungent weeds of summer, or a girlfriend's cologne, or the sweat of the skin on your shoulders, or the rich wind that blows across a meadow in some desolate valley on a mountain range, and been brought back to a time of the past that you will remember with a yearning smile forever?
Have you ever savored the smell of smoke from a wildfire? Have you felt so free and sure that you knew the summer would last forever and nothing could make you go back?
There was a time we were completely, fancy-free. We ate and slept and played and worked and nothing mattered. Pain was of no consequence because we knew we would heal. Risk was menial, days were long and summers longer. Dreams weren't dreams, they were truths and we breathed and laughed and sang them into existence. People looked down on you because you were happy, others looked up. And since nothing ever changes, no matter how old we get or blinded we become by society, it's all still the same. We're still right in it.
We don't reminisce about the time we were most sensible or the path we took that was the most normal. We're awestruck by the days we spent doing things we never thought possible but did them anyway. Those are the times we remember forever.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Pizza Delivery vs. Acting
Recreational sports are a lot of fun. I really do enjoy spending time with friends or even strangers playing some kind of organized, physical game that requires my full attention. I wish I could do it more often! I want games.
Games. I like games, and game-like thinking. What does this mean? I don't know if it has to do with the creative drive, and that I'm slightly addicted to wanting a creative personality, but I love to be told scenarios and stories and then be given the freedom to figure out what to do. See, that's this weird thing that I've always known about myself: I love to be given the circumstances because I enjoy acting within them. But I have a significantly difficult time making up circumstances on my own. I'd rather be presented with an opportunity and take it. It's like school! I got some of the best work in my life done in school. I was 150% dedicated, I was on-time and committed, and I got the job done to the absolute best of my ability. Why was this? Because somebody else presented me with a set of circumstances, gave me viable options for paths to push through those circumstances, and finally set me free to make choices on my own. I then seek out the least-likely-yet-secure route and start driving towards my destination. I think this is also why I enjoy pizza delivery, or serving, or even acting. You're given a set of circumstances with a foreseeable outcome, but it's up to you to decide the route through which to get there. A script, for example, is a starting-off point, but also a finish line. In the process of learning and performing a script, you discover paths and traverses halfway through that bring you to higher understandings and more complex thinking. Same with pizza delivery: there's always the basic route that gets you to the house. Sometimes it's obvious, other times you have to do some mathematics. But as you take the same routes you start to make connections with other streets, and eventually discern new paths that lead to quicker, smoother and more interesting drives. All to the same house, all eating the same pizza. It's pretty amazing.
That said, I couldn't toss a pizza if you put all the ingredients in front of me. In the same way, I've never had the balls to write a script. I just want to perform, or drive. And choose my pathways. Is this laziness? I sort of think so. But why not be lazy, you know? We're all lazy, laziness is gelatin and we're a big bowl of grandma's fruit salad.
Anyway, that's my blog for the day
Adios amigos
Mikie
Games. I like games, and game-like thinking. What does this mean? I don't know if it has to do with the creative drive, and that I'm slightly addicted to wanting a creative personality, but I love to be told scenarios and stories and then be given the freedom to figure out what to do. See, that's this weird thing that I've always known about myself: I love to be given the circumstances because I enjoy acting within them. But I have a significantly difficult time making up circumstances on my own. I'd rather be presented with an opportunity and take it. It's like school! I got some of the best work in my life done in school. I was 150% dedicated, I was on-time and committed, and I got the job done to the absolute best of my ability. Why was this? Because somebody else presented me with a set of circumstances, gave me viable options for paths to push through those circumstances, and finally set me free to make choices on my own. I then seek out the least-likely-yet-secure route and start driving towards my destination. I think this is also why I enjoy pizza delivery, or serving, or even acting. You're given a set of circumstances with a foreseeable outcome, but it's up to you to decide the route through which to get there. A script, for example, is a starting-off point, but also a finish line. In the process of learning and performing a script, you discover paths and traverses halfway through that bring you to higher understandings and more complex thinking. Same with pizza delivery: there's always the basic route that gets you to the house. Sometimes it's obvious, other times you have to do some mathematics. But as you take the same routes you start to make connections with other streets, and eventually discern new paths that lead to quicker, smoother and more interesting drives. All to the same house, all eating the same pizza. It's pretty amazing.
That said, I couldn't toss a pizza if you put all the ingredients in front of me. In the same way, I've never had the balls to write a script. I just want to perform, or drive. And choose my pathways. Is this laziness? I sort of think so. But why not be lazy, you know? We're all lazy, laziness is gelatin and we're a big bowl of grandma's fruit salad.
Anyway, that's my blog for the day
Adios amigos
Mikie
Friday, March 20, 2009
Who's Cooler
Feel Free to comment with your answers by number:
Who's Cooler:
1 - Barack Obama or Steven Speilberg?
2 - Trader Joes or Whole Foods?
3 - Jesus or Odysseus?
4 - William Shakespeare or John Steinbeck?
5 - Virgin Mary or Ms. Claus?
6 - Tim or Eric?
7 - Dustin Hoffman or Richard Dreyfus?>
8 - Natalie Portman or Anna Paquin?
9 - Tom Cruise or Mel Gibson?
10 - Verizon or AT&T?
11 - Jurassic Park 3 or Star Wars Episode: II?
12 - Zoras or Gorons?
13 - Tostitos or Doritos?
14 - Sarah Palin or George Bush?
15 - Joey or Stan?
16 - Leonardo DiCaprio or Johnny Depp?
17 - Indiana Jones or Han Solo?
18 - iPod Touch 16-gig or iPhone 3-gig?
19 - Malin or Marin?
20 - Dell or Apple?
21 - Guinness or Blue Moon?
22 - Mastadon or Pterodactyl?
23 - Obese or Malnourished?
24 - Afterlife or Pre-existence?
25 - Guys or Girls?
26 - Bullets or Arrows?
27 - Glacier National Park or Havasupai Reservation?
28 - Dead-end job or Unemployed?
29 - Potato Chips or Tortilla Chips?
30 - Digital or Film?
31 - John Stewart or Conan O'brien?
32 - Local and inorganic or Non-local and organic?
Words:
33 - dwarf or midget?
34 - salamander or alabaster?
35 - footsies or feces?
36 - synonymous or harmonious?
37 - scramble or Scrabble?
38 - misanthropic or microscopic?
39 - salavating or menstruating?
Games:
39 - Duck, Duck, Goose or Tug-O-War?
40 - Link to the Past or Link's Awakening?
41 - Apples to Apples or Big Booty?
Families:
42 - Beatty's or Bluth's?
to be continued...
Who's Cooler:
1 - Barack Obama or Steven Speilberg?
2 - Trader Joes or Whole Foods?
3 - Jesus or Odysseus?
4 - William Shakespeare or John Steinbeck?
5 - Virgin Mary or Ms. Claus?
6 - Tim or Eric?
7 - Dustin Hoffman or Richard Dreyfus?>
8 - Natalie Portman or Anna Paquin?
9 - Tom Cruise or Mel Gibson?
10 - Verizon or AT&T?
11 - Jurassic Park 3 or Star Wars Episode: II?
12 - Zoras or Gorons?
13 - Tostitos or Doritos?
14 - Sarah Palin or George Bush?
15 - Joey or Stan?
16 - Leonardo DiCaprio or Johnny Depp?
17 - Indiana Jones or Han Solo?
18 - iPod Touch 16-gig or iPhone 3-gig?
19 - Malin or Marin?
20 - Dell or Apple?
21 - Guinness or Blue Moon?
22 - Mastadon or Pterodactyl?
23 - Obese or Malnourished?
24 - Afterlife or Pre-existence?
25 - Guys or Girls?
26 - Bullets or Arrows?
27 - Glacier National Park or Havasupai Reservation?
28 - Dead-end job or Unemployed?
29 - Potato Chips or Tortilla Chips?
30 - Digital or Film?
31 - John Stewart or Conan O'brien?
32 - Local and inorganic or Non-local and organic?
Words:
33 - dwarf or midget?
34 - salamander or alabaster?
35 - footsies or feces?
36 - synonymous or harmonious?
37 - scramble or Scrabble?
38 - misanthropic or microscopic?
39 - salavating or menstruating?
Games:
39 - Duck, Duck, Goose or Tug-O-War?
40 - Link to the Past or Link's Awakening?
41 - Apples to Apples or Big Booty?
Families:
42 - Beatty's or Bluth's?
to be continued...
Saturday, March 14, 2009
The River Trail
Driving the path to Swansboro, on the switchbacks there is an empty turnout, covered in dirt and brown leaves. Behind the turnout is a cliff, and pressing against it is a dark forest with twigs and branches splintering out in the naked evening. The smell of night fills your nostrils. Leading into the forest you notice a small opening, a trail from the cliff's short edge that drops quickly off and out of sight. Your car ticks quietly behind you, the motor is cooling, and silence is closing in. Tick. Night moves around you. Your pupils adjust to the fading light. Facing the forest, you take a step towards the small forest trail. Every footstep is the same, crunching on old fallen leaves. You move closer to the forest and the trail.
You hear a sound. A soft moan from the forest, sitting in the air for a second before it disappears. You look up and out. It was a sound, a quiet wind, some haunt carried from deep within the forest. You heard it, and on a rock hanging over the river there is nobody waiting for you. In the dirt far ahead there is nobody standing. Beneath the rocks over the river, nobody is floating. You are alone, and at the edge of the trail on a winter's night.
You hear a sound. A soft moan from the forest, sitting in the air for a second before it disappears. You look up and out. It was a sound, a quiet wind, some haunt carried from deep within the forest. You heard it, and on a rock hanging over the river there is nobody waiting for you. In the dirt far ahead there is nobody standing. Beneath the rocks over the river, nobody is floating. You are alone, and at the edge of the trail on a winter's night.
Monday, March 9, 2009
If I had 15 million dollars...
I would put the whole bloody amount on hold and only slightly alter my current circumstances. Here's how:
1 - Buy a big warm country home with stairs, a field and a large fireplace.
2 - Sit in front of the fireplace with my blub watching old Shakespeare films with subtitles until the night runs into dawn. (Interchanging the films with episodes of cool shows.)
3 - Go to the doctor a million times a day, repairing my peace of mind.
4 - Not go to work today, tomorrow or the next two following.
5 - Sleep and sleep and heal and heal.
6 - Bewed the fox.
7 - Sing softly and loudly
8 - Feel so damn good and warm
9 - Run around in the grass
10 - Swim to my heart's content
Is 27 going to be this archaic? I hope so, because this is what I currently want. Today, March 8 2009. And I have no qualms.
Mikie
1 - Buy a big warm country home with stairs, a field and a large fireplace.
2 - Sit in front of the fireplace with my blub watching old Shakespeare films with subtitles until the night runs into dawn. (Interchanging the films with episodes of cool shows.)
3 - Go to the doctor a million times a day, repairing my peace of mind.
4 - Not go to work today, tomorrow or the next two following.
5 - Sleep and sleep and heal and heal.
6 - Bewed the fox.
7 - Sing softly and loudly
8 - Feel so damn good and warm
9 - Run around in the grass
10 - Swim to my heart's content
Is 27 going to be this archaic? I hope so, because this is what I currently want. Today, March 8 2009. And I have no qualms.
Mikie
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Hypochondriatic
You know, it's an amazing thing what mystery can do to our senses.
When something goes wrong with our bodies, inside or out, it's absolutely a task to determine the difference between Actual-Physical-Problem and Anxiety-Induced-Problem.
I write this because over the past few days I have been in an unfriendly bout of total and utter physical hypochondria. (I don't know if I'm using this word correctly, but let's just say that I am.) Basically, I had a physical mishap last Wednesday night, and since then I have unfortunately diagnosed myself with every problem from Brain Tumors to Kidney Failure, to Carbon Monoxide poisoning.
Stupidly, it's more serious to me than it sounds on the outside. I think because I don't know what could have gone wrong, I find myself almost subconsciously desperately seeking for any clue as to what could be wrong - the result is a way-overawareness of everything that happens in the body, and sometimes the brain will literally create a response or feeling that I think could happen, it's ridiculous.
So now I'm gearing up for a short day's work at Rosie McCann's for brunch. It's Sunday. I'm very much alive, and probably healthier than I give myself credit for.
Here's the problem with modern medicine: the Fear Factor. Look at those dudes in Africa and the like who have 30-pound tumors growing from their eyeballs! How do they survive that long? They don't participate in this growing world of fear that surrounds everything having to do with modern medicine. And here I am stuck in the middle, wishing I could just quickly hire a doctor to fix whatever trauma my body is or isn't facing, while also wishing I could rid myself of all anxiety and just keep on living worry free.
What to do? go to work. Seeya folks
Mikie
When something goes wrong with our bodies, inside or out, it's absolutely a task to determine the difference between Actual-Physical-Problem and Anxiety-Induced-Problem.
I write this because over the past few days I have been in an unfriendly bout of total and utter physical hypochondria. (I don't know if I'm using this word correctly, but let's just say that I am.) Basically, I had a physical mishap last Wednesday night, and since then I have unfortunately diagnosed myself with every problem from Brain Tumors to Kidney Failure, to Carbon Monoxide poisoning.
Stupidly, it's more serious to me than it sounds on the outside. I think because I don't know what could have gone wrong, I find myself almost subconsciously desperately seeking for any clue as to what could be wrong - the result is a way-overawareness of everything that happens in the body, and sometimes the brain will literally create a response or feeling that I think could happen, it's ridiculous.
So now I'm gearing up for a short day's work at Rosie McCann's for brunch. It's Sunday. I'm very much alive, and probably healthier than I give myself credit for.
Here's the problem with modern medicine: the Fear Factor. Look at those dudes in Africa and the like who have 30-pound tumors growing from their eyeballs! How do they survive that long? They don't participate in this growing world of fear that surrounds everything having to do with modern medicine. And here I am stuck in the middle, wishing I could just quickly hire a doctor to fix whatever trauma my body is or isn't facing, while also wishing I could rid myself of all anxiety and just keep on living worry free.
What to do? go to work. Seeya folks
Mikie
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
What's funny?
There's about fifty other things I probably should be doing besides signing onto my semineglected blogsite and posting a stream of consciousness.
But you know what? There's only ONE of Me. And this is what the One Me has chosen. My life is a dictatorship and thou shalt bow to my wishes.
Anyway, I just got finished swimming.
I know this might sound strange, but: There's a shortage of good comedy in our world today. There's a significant slight of funny, ridiculous, exposing comedy. Not to say there isn't any, because clearly we have a few fine television shows and several hilarious pundits and talk show hosts. But now enough.
A couple days ago, Jimmy Fallon started his stint as host of The Late Show, replacing Conan O'Brien (who went on to replace Jay Leno in the Tonight Show).
This switcheroo wasn't such a bad thing - I can imagine Jimmy Fallon taking it up and maybe being fairly successful. But at the same time, that's the problem here: Fairly successful. I fear this show will be mediocrely OK, enough to satisfy the producers and general public, but nothing outstanding or fresh; just another general rehash of talk shows, with a pretty-funny host talking about regular world situations. No big deal.
That's where we have a shortage. There is little funny that I know of that is a big deal! Honestly, American Idol is a bigger deal than Jimmy Fallon's chair switch, and the only funny part of that is Ryan Seacrest making fun of Simon!
So anyway, I'm just putting it out there. Where's the good comedies that actually mean something - I want more Office, Arrested Development, Extras, Cosby Show, Cheers, John Stewart, Conan, Tim n' Eric, Little Miss Sunshine, As You Like It, Trainspotting, etc - I want more.
I largely don't respect standup artists because they're frivolous and their comedy stinks. I want the good stuff, and a LOT MORE of it! Heck, I bet Barack's even funny.
Blub,
Mikie
But you know what? There's only ONE of Me. And this is what the One Me has chosen. My life is a dictatorship and thou shalt bow to my wishes.
Anyway, I just got finished swimming.
I know this might sound strange, but: There's a shortage of good comedy in our world today. There's a significant slight of funny, ridiculous, exposing comedy. Not to say there isn't any, because clearly we have a few fine television shows and several hilarious pundits and talk show hosts. But now enough.
A couple days ago, Jimmy Fallon started his stint as host of The Late Show, replacing Conan O'Brien (who went on to replace Jay Leno in the Tonight Show).
This switcheroo wasn't such a bad thing - I can imagine Jimmy Fallon taking it up and maybe being fairly successful. But at the same time, that's the problem here: Fairly successful. I fear this show will be mediocrely OK, enough to satisfy the producers and general public, but nothing outstanding or fresh; just another general rehash of talk shows, with a pretty-funny host talking about regular world situations. No big deal.
That's where we have a shortage. There is little funny that I know of that is a big deal! Honestly, American Idol is a bigger deal than Jimmy Fallon's chair switch, and the only funny part of that is Ryan Seacrest making fun of Simon!
So anyway, I'm just putting it out there. Where's the good comedies that actually mean something - I want more Office, Arrested Development, Extras, Cosby Show, Cheers, John Stewart, Conan, Tim n' Eric, Little Miss Sunshine, As You Like It, Trainspotting, etc - I want more.
I largely don't respect standup artists because they're frivolous and their comedy stinks. I want the good stuff, and a LOT MORE of it! Heck, I bet Barack's even funny.
Blub,
Mikie
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