I spent a good part of today at work, entering data for upcoming events. Registrations. Adding credit card information, cheque numbers, addresses, phone numbers, emails, first names, last names middleinitialsfavouriteicedteaflavourveganvegetarianpieeatingcontest…
And then I ate a lot of Indian food and some chocolate cake.
During this time I worked out a number of things, rather, I developed some ideas I’ve often thought about.
1. Is it possible to have a communist state?
2. Are people really destined to be something? (i.e. performer, pilot)
3. Is true love a myth?
4. Will my ass get flat if I sit at this desk for the next 10 years?
These are all great topics to discuss, but for the sake of deliberate self conscious thought, I suppose I’ll start by analyzing the concept that people are destined to become something.
I watch Glee. I think it’s fun, I love the musical numbers, I enjoy the characters’ ups and downs. Specific to this topic, I often contemplate Rachel’s proclamation that she is destined to be on Broadway. I was once in her shoes, performing lead solos in high school musicals, seeking out more dance classes, acting classes; striving for every possible drama or theatre award. I was certain it was my destiny to be a film maker, and to act in said films. I would also perform Broadway shows along side great stars such as Catherine O’Hara, Johnny Depp, Andrea Martin, Tim Curry and many more. I certainly had a type, a cultish sort of preference. My all time favourite director was and is, Tim Burton. I’m sure I’ve painted a rather exacting portrait of myself by now.
To the point of destiny then, whether I was/am destined to be this performer/film maker, is it valid?
Flash forward about seven years to the age of 24. I was rejected from all six film schools I applied to, and haven’t made a film of my own since. Well, I guess if you count drunken escapades involving a lot of moronic whip pans across a crowded bar… I’m sure I’ve made about 10 of those.
I recently began a relationship with a film maker who faced similar challenges in pursuing this specific career. However, his passion drove him to make a feature length film, although abandoned at the moment. My passion fizzled as soon as I discovered alcohol and lost my hold on creativity (there is a boyfriend to blame for that – he once said “I wish you weren’t so silly,” and continued to stifle my creativity for a grand total of 3.5 years).
So now I have an outlet, or a demand rather, to enter this world that I had left behind so many years ago. What troubles me is that I feel the same frustration/passion I did when I was making films previously, but I completely lack any sort of spark in the initial startup. I have no ideas. I can’t flesh out a thought. All I can seem to come up with are things like skeletons riding bicycles smoking cigars, or three eyed bulbous monsters on four legs attacking weird mad scientists. Great still images, but there isn’t any movement.
The question: Are people really destined to be something?
I have been given a second opportunity to do the one thing I was ever truly passionate about – to perform and make films. I’m just too shy and self conscious to actually begin. That means one of two things in my opinion:
1. Destiny is not real and I should forget about pursuing this.
2. Destiny is real and I should start practicing and get creating again.
I didn’t answer the question. BUT since It’s a life question, I guess I have a while to figure it out!