I default to blogging when I have nothing interesting to say, except that I am once again embroiled in the daily chaos that is working at Theatre at Sea, and then going to stage manage for Musicals Tonight. I observed to my coworkers, in a fashion that can really only be described as slightly whiny, that I've stage managed about eight shows since graduating from AADA, but I've only acted in one. By the time May rolls around, I'll have stage managed fourteen (yes, I've committed myself to stage managing another six bloody shows between now and the end of April) shows, and in all likelihood...I'll still have only acted in one.
Great googly moogly, what's wrong with me?
It feels a little bit like the universe is trying to tell me something, and I'm too thick-skulled to listen. Ha. See, actually, that I'm acknowledging this information already means that I'm listening, but there's a big difference between listening up here and listening down here. Higher. No, higher still. Get your mind out of the gutter, you perverts. I'm talking about head and heart, not head and...yeah, that.
I love acting. I love being on stage, and performing. It still feels nerve-wracking while I'm up there, but it's like...I can safely access parts of myself I'd never allow myself to experience while I'm on stage.
That said, however, I often wonder...I've been wondering a great deal lately whether I might not have been happier trying to make my way as a writer instead. At the risk of sounding like an arrogant ass...well, okay, I already am an arrogant ass, but at the risk of sounding like an even more arrogant ass, I'm a damn fine writer. If I do say so myself. A much better writer, I tend to think, then I am an actor.
Or maybe this is how it gets you, the negativity. The sensation that maybe, just maybe, that's not enough. Confidence and support from your friends and family isn't enough. Even determination isn't enough. Everything starts fraying at the edges, like a soft fruit tossed into a vat of acid, and it's only so long before the world starts eating into you, seeping in the soft center...
Ha! I'm unduly influenced by a horror story I've been writing lately, heavily influenced by Lovecraftian themes. I just had...sort of an argument earlier this evening with Whally (hey Whally!) about how I'd smother his cynicism with light and hope and peace. It's hard to remain optimistic some days, but I generally manage the fortitude of spirit. Then again, arguably...I've also had it pretty easy, as far as my theatrical pursuits have gone, at any rate.
I do have a rather spectacular piece of news - I got accepted as a writer for a gay sci-fi/fantasy/horror site, called www.doorq.com. Now, I know there are dozens of instances out there where some random site or place wants you to write for free, and can't offer anything except exposure. But...this just feels...different. I don't really know why. Maybe it's because I've felt sort of...alienated...from the gay community for a long time. Once again, at the risk of sounding arrogant...I'm not your stereotypical gay man. I'm not very flamboyant (except when I'm dancing. Hoo boy.) I like technical stuff in addition to art. I like rock music, and I don't know the bloody first thing about interior decoration. I dress like a total dork, and it shows. God, how it shows. I mean...Myia had to pick out the most "stylish" pieces of my wardrobe. I'm going to have to ask Kevin or Jason - two straight friends - to help me pick out my new wardrobe when I go shopping. Did we all hear that? My straight male friends have better taste in clothing than I do.
I'm a horrendous gay man. About the only thing that qualifies me, really, is the fact that I like guys. I really like guys. And I don't dig girls, like, at all. I mean, I'm friends with Darien and Myia, and they're easily two of the most attractive women I've ever met. I love them both dearly, but...I'm about as attracted to them as I am to a kumquat. Although a kumquat doesn't feel as nice if it were to hug me.
How fortunate it is that liking guys is the only real requirement for being gay. Thank god.
Oh, yeah - doorq.com. It's filled with gay sci-fi/fantasy/horror geeks. You heard me. There are more of us.
And it's like...for the first time ever, I really, really feel like I belong in a community. That I have people who understand me on more than just the level of "we're both dorks" or "we both like guys" or "Star Wars is better than Star Trek, and I'll Death Star your ass if you don't agree with me." (I don't, by the way. Star Wars might be "cooler," but Star Trek is way more pertinent.) It's a warm feeling. A really warm feeling.
