The Reset Button

Just like that, it's 2011. Like always - time keeps moving along and passing us by. It's easy to get stuck in a single second of the clock's endless ticking. Being stuck is easy - moving forward is not. Let me rephrase that: With the inertia inherent to time, it seems like moving forward would be a breeze; in actuality it's one of life's more difficult tasks.

A good friend of mine advised in his Christmas card this year to stay creative in 2011; do something every day that feeds my creativity and mind. So I'm updating this old blog again. It's been a while and a lot has changed. 2011 is dedicated to what my friends and I have lovingly called the Reset Button. Resetting expectations. Resetting our growing list of regrets. Resetting our ability to move forward and break that pesky time barrier.

One of the toasts I heard this year, stuck will me in particular; that is, that 2011 being about reaping the seeds planted in 2010. As the new year approached, there was this overwhelming feeling that 2011 would be a turning point to many of the people I love. For me, 2011 IS about reaping the seeds sown in my life. Whether that means my company and my business partners taking the next big step in our careers, my family and I proving the old adage "love conquers all," or me finally striking the proverbial balance in the very different areas of my life; 2011 seems to be the year to make it all happen.

There was a tangible turning point in my career this year. The completion of MMM's first feature OPUS (my first feature, producing credit), marked the beginning of something bigger. I've seen huge steps in my professional life for which I couldn't be more grateful. I see people trusting my judgement and my experience to get the job done. I feel my partnership with MMM growing and flourishing and, in this, I see a future I never expected.

The same goes for my family. Returning home this Christmas was a 180 degree difference from the last. Where last year, the soil felt parched and hard, this year felt fertile and rich; my roots a little stronger than before. I spent a lot of time with my Nana - who against all odds has become my biggest advocate and supporter. This past year, she has taught me more about love and tolerance and understanding than any other person in my life. I also got to see and hold my Nephew Jackson. A year into his journey and he's already a beacon of joy and life. My siblings and I found more peace in our ages, in understanding and in a clearer perspective of our childhoods. And my parents. My parents and I found a way to not only coexist, but love each other and see each other beyond our differences. The steps may seem few to the outsider, but their span is immeasurable to me.

And my personal life? In 2010, I realized for the first time I was truly happy with myself. I found the ability to truly love myself and in turn love others. I made relationships I never thought I'd have here in LA and am very blessed for my growing support system. In 2011, I hope to see this grow even more - that the collective wisdom of friends and myself will inform my growth and faith.

I thank God for this New Year; for the chance to reset my life and to move forward into the greener pastures of a life well-cultivated. I've been blessed in many ways and regardless of whether things grow into the plants and flowers I envisioned, in 2010, I must remember that no weed is unable to be cut and no thorn is unable to be removed. Time will continue ticking and I will choose to follow its hands and move forward.

Happy New Year!

"Quarter-Life Crisis"

I stepped off the plane from my two-week trip to Madrid and returned to a Los Angeles in the thick of Summer. Early Summers in LA are literally overshadowed by "June Gloom," that 14-21 day period where the sun fights a futile battle against an unrelenting Marine layer. This Wednesday evening was no different. I stepped off the plane and inhaled the thick air. Somehow, the air maintains its dense consistency without the help of humidity or condensation.

Mere moments after leaving my tiny, uncomfortable prison of a seat on the American Airlines jet, the "Spain Hangover" (as my mother so kindly put it) began. Something was, and is, different about this particular case of wander-lust. It began in Madrid, during a conversation I had with a friend I made while standing on my veranda. We talked for a while across the way, then met up for a walk. This was rather typical of my experience with Madrid - the city survives on social interaction. Meeting people and eating, drinking, smoking together, joining random groups and parties; you're never alone. Even being alone in Madrid means leaning out of your window over the railing and watching the people below you and around you all doing the same; acknowledging each other.

During our walk, my new friend asked why I was in Madrid, how I liked Los Angeles and what it is I was doing with my life. The standard rundown for any new acquaintance, but for some reason, I found difficultly in finding the right words. I knew why I had come to Madrid: Wes had his exhibit in PhotoEspana '09, tickets were cheap, my lifelong best friend Jeff and I needed an excuse to see each other and I just wanted to get away. I know how I like Los Angeles: it's like being in a relationship; you meet it, fall in love, the honeymoon ends, you get in fights, sleep on separate sides of the bed and then make up.

The problematic question, however; the question I couldn't seem to answer: What am I doing with my life. I can say, "Well, I'm currently freelancing in film, music video and commercial production as a PA, coordinator and more recently, independent producer. I'm also working on my acting career and, really, I'm just hustling to survive during this shit-tank of an economy."

That's the simple, rehearsed answer.

But this growing restlessness inside of me prevented any such response to my friend. There was a strange level of trust with this person and I felt the need to overindulge in this answer. So I said, "To be honest, I don't know really what I'm doing with my life. A year after graduating college, I'm feeling a more lost than I ever have." The words left my mouth and took my breath along with it. I hadn't yet verbalized my discontent, and suddenly, I was exactly what I said I was. Lost.

There has been a growing discourse among my peer group the past month, and especially in the last few weeks, about the "quarter-life crisis." Somewhere in your twenties, you're likely to find yourself lost in a whirlpool of professional decisions, responsibility and adult pander. Suddenly, after spending all of the money to graduate college, obtain a degree and move to a new city for work, you wonder if you've really made any progress at all. Did I waste all of this money on a degree whose field I now resent?

Yesterday, I went for a run last night during the twilight hours. After my body warmed up, I hit my stride; that point in your workout where my body feels like it will run forever, ceaselessly, boundlessly. As time ticks away and the ground passes beneath you, slowly you feel the pull of your muscles. You feel the contractions of the strain take hold and suddenly your body is heavy. You push and push until your reach the finish line as if you can only take one my step. You realize that your body cannot, in fact, last forever. That it has its breaking point.

That initial stride, that feeling of infinite energy is similar to how I felt when moving to LA. I graduated a year early, I made the leap of faith and started my run before the shotgun even sounded. The warmup in Los Angeles was difficult, but I eventually hit a stride. Now, after a year my legs are feeling heavy and on my run yesterday, I finally felt the effects of a few too many cigarettes at a few too many dimly lit bars in Madrid.

I'm trying to think this about all of these feelings with respect to my current culture shock. I'm doing my best to not be overly reactionary. I'm trying to move forward with my plans and in the spirit of doing so, I attended a meeting with an acting manager I had set up prior to leaving for vacation. Honoring this appointment left me with some really great advice, an excellent contact and an open door for possible future representation. But, to my dismay, I found myself feigning interest while I spoke with him. Even worse, I walked out of the meeting and my gut delicately whispered: "You don't want this."

As if pushing aside my diaphragm and intestines and stabbing me in the heart, my gut effectively threw yet another wrench in the works. I don't want this right now. Acting has been my passion my entire life and now it's time to step up my game, but I can't even seem to get my shoes tied properly. I realized that I might not be ready to settle down and pursue a career like with all of my being. I'm not ready to commit to the lifestyle. I want to experience more, meet more people, eat more food. I want to see the good and the bad and be a student of experience.

I don't think I can wrap this entry up with a neat little bow. I don't think there is really a way to end this train of thought, because it's constantly moving. I'm still thinking and as more possibilities come into focus, the more I realize why this time of my life is referred to as my "quarter-life crisis." Luckily, I know that with the exhaustion that accompanies every run, also comes more strength to run again. So tomorrow morning, I'll wake up, my body rested, and run again.

The (Emotional) State of the Union

Here's another little ditty for you.

Where to start? This month has been a roller coaster to say the least. My patience and faith have been actively tested day in and day out. Again, I'm still unemployed and that lends itself to a lot of thinking. Thinking - I'll start there. All this emotional stuff that is boiling inside of me. When this whole period of unemployment began, I found myself waking up every few days in a cold sweat. Sure, it's nice to have time to yourself and time to do your own thing, but if you're not careful, you'll find yourself spiraling into an uncontrollable, emotional abyss filled with self-doubt, pity and anger.

I try to keep busy when I'm not applying for jobs, but I've found myself in said abyss a number of days. I've spent days thinking and thinking and thinking. I've become more self-involved. I've starting having diarrhea of the mouth. I've begun taking people for granted.

I've said this before - without the love and support of my my friends and family - I would be nowhere right now, and I have actively thanked those people this past month. Still, I'm realizing that I possess another side. A side that expects more from certain people. Generally the rule seems that the closer I am to someone - the more I expect them to hold me up. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but in some cases, I've forgotten that everyone has their own personal woes. I need to listen as much as I talk. I need to absorb as much as I expel. I need to give as much as I take.

To those people whom I've exhibited this behavior with, I'm sorry. In times like this, when we're in a constant state of heightened stress and emotion, it's important to step ourside your own world and see the people around you. If you isolate yourself and focus only on you, then you miss the solutions and the stress relievers and the laughter.

I fear that this emotional stress has taken a toll on some of my relationships. I found myself snapping at a caregiver, blowing off brother and yelling at a similarly distraught friend. And while most of the issues I decided to focus on with these people are valid and need to be dealt with, I chose an inopportune time and an invalid way of expressing my thoughts. For that I'm also sorry.

There's a deeply rooted lesson here about anger management and I think it involves a lot of breathing, a lot of self-awareness and in my case, an awful lot of prayer. In many ways, I've found successes through these hardships and, in other ways, I've lost a lot of my own emotional insight.

Addendum

I just received a text from a friend regarding the last entry I wrote. Can I just say that nothing makes me happier with regards to this blog, than hearing that someone has been reading and, even better, that they have an opinion about what I wrote. So, for this reason, I keep writing.

The texts I received were very encouraging as the person explained how the entry hit them today right where they were in their emotional life. Probably the most striking response they had was saying, "I know! Part of me hates admitting to myself that I'm lost in a sense." What strong words and, still, so relevant to everything going on. I'll speak from personal experience that probably the hardest thing I've done in my life - being as prideful as I am - is admitting that I'm lost, that I need help, and that I've seriously messed up.

It seems to me that admitting this is when things become clear, and in a sense, the most confusing. Suddenly, you find yourself in a position to heal and learn and grow, but you have this internal struggle raging on inside you: Am I adequately equipped? Can I strong enough? Am I ready? What if I fail?

I think it's important to put all of this in perspective. The most important step in any journey is the first - the commitment to admission, to change, to grow. Whether this is in the areas of faith, family, your career or love - the first step is saying to yourself, "I'm ready." So, you admit to yourself that you were wrong or you ask someone for a helping hand. You say EVERYTHING you need to say, so you know you said it - and THEN you move forward.

I told my friend that the battles we wage aren't easy ones and it is hardest fighting alone. No man is an army and no man has the ability to absolve himself completely. We need to make active steps in our lives and, just as importantly, surround ourselves with like-minded people who will help us grow. And by like-minded, I don't mean ideological clones, but people who understand the value of the journey and can reinforce the steps necessary to grow.

Recently, I've been blessed a few of those people in my new life here. I've also been blessed with the reminder of a few good soldiers from my past.

"And oh my heart is smiling"

Earlier this week, I got an email from one of my closest friends and roommate from Emerson, Mahri. She had emailed a few people in our circle something she had written. It struck me so hard. She's an incredible author and musician. I find myself listening to her music often as she has this uncanny ability to speak to her audience in this universal way. She wrote:

"Feel like its time 'cause I've followed the signs for all my life,

And oh my heart is smiling

Need for my wish and my stars to align, 'cause in this life,

The heart grows tired of smiling

I'll never control my desires, we live for hunger

Till my last breath I will feel, only LOVE"

Each phrase speaks to a very different emotion. It seems to outline a journey.

First, that feeling that everything up to this point has primed you for what's next. You walk through the door happy and ready to accept it. Next, what if it isn't time? How can we be sure about what's coming next or what we're prepared for? Doesn't the old adage suggest that nothing can truly prepare you for life? Sometimes amidst all the understanding, you lose yourself. You grow frustrated as you analyze everything and try to itemize everything to the point of understanding nothing! Finally -and this is my favorite - she says that trying to comprehend and catagorize your life is pointless. Ultimately, our desires and needs will pull us, or motivate us, forward. We're on a journey purposefully, and sometimes blissfully ignorant, towards our own final goal.

Now, I'm sure I'll get a call from Mahri asking me about this interpretation, but I can't help it. That's what I see and, again, why I think Mahri's music and words are great. You can see yourself in what she writes. And that's what I'm saying.

Check out Mahri's stuff on her Myspace (also on the side navigation bar).

In Retrospect: Boston to LA

I just got home to LA from my vacation in Boston. This was the first time since graduating in May that I have returned. My four days in the city were full of reunions, cold weather and thinking. Per the usual, getting a fresh perspective on my life was an underlying priority. I'm finding now that leaving LA almost always becomes about obtaining a new vantage point. Where have I been? Where am I going? Just, keeping myself in check really.

For the most part, walking around Boston was refreshing, a welcome familiarity. There were times, however, when I felt displaced and apart from that life; like I was walking in the shadows or past an impression of my own experiences.

Walking through the snow in the Commons

Coffee at 1 Charles St. Starbucks

A pint at the Hill Tavern

Small, cozy apartments stuffed with books and used furniture.

Warped, wood floors curving around small hallways.

Gas lamp lined streets...

Beacon Hill

Beacon Hill always makes me feel good inside. No matter how rough my day might have been or what social drama had unfolded, there was something about returning to Beacon Hill and feeling safe. I never realized how isolated this part of Boston remains. Despite its acessibility numerous T lines and its location in the center of downtown; Beacon Hill feels remote and separate. It puts my mind at rest and feels safe. I never realized it before.

Other parts of the city made my head pulse; strange memories coursing through my brain. It wasn't any one particular memory, but a simple, distinct feeling of the past. Feeling nostalgic and feeling like you're in the past are two very different feelings. Nostalgia, is just that - but living in the past can be a scary feeling. I realized that the vast majority of Boston feels like the past to me. I found myself missing Los Angeles. At first this saddened me, that I couldn't remain present enough to enjoy my time off, but then I realized the significance of this longing.

I realized half way through my trip that I missed LA because I missed my home. I realized that my decision to stay in LA was the correct choice, that the comfort of this seemingly alien place had replaced the fear and longing of familiarity with a new semblance of happiness. I can miss and appreciate my home while enjoying my time apart from it. I can have both.

This is unbelievable considering the state of mind in which I started this journey. I began this blog to help chronicle my transition into adulthood. I came to Los Angeles with a scant amount friends, very little money, no family within thousands of miles of me and no home. As I enter the last quarter of my first year here, I realize that I have jumped every one of these hurdles. I've added volumes to my personal encyclopedia:

I have earned my stay here
and found a home
Scavenged and fought for my own necessities
and remained financially independent of my family
I weathered the post-graduation slump
but remembered how to laugh at myself
I found God
and remembered what it means to believe in myself
I have felt successful, unstoppable
and completely helpless
I know now what it means to love
and learned the value of loneliness
I have felt pure joy at the prospect of having it all
and total fear at the thought of losing everything

Life is this series of contradictions. Revelations happen in pairs. I'm thankful for this vacation and for my incessant need to get perspective. From Boston to LA, I feel like I'm coming to the end of this transitory period of my life for which the outset of this blog was meant. Now, it's about a series of steps; putting one foot in front of the other and always moving forward.

Boston is my memory, LA is my present and I'm feeling very prepared for whatever shape my future takes.

Boston

This Thursday I'll be taking a flight and returning to Boston for the first time since graduating last year. Another one of those "big picture" moments I suppose. I'm excited about getting out of LA for a little bit and getting one more taste of winter before the season is over. I can't wait to see Mahri and all my friends from the area. I'm also excited to be in the Emerson environment again - not because I miss being in school by any means, but because it's a chance to look at where I came from in relation to now.

Very similarly to my trip back home in December, I have the opportunity to explore these roots and keep my journey in mind. I had this banner from a high school crew meet that said in bold letters: "The Journey is the Reward." I hung it in every room I lived in for 5 years and I'm big time believer in this idea. Having the chance to stand back, take inventory and recognize the steps I've taken this past year is a wonderful thing.

This is also my first vacation that I bought and paid for with my own money. I think that's pretty exciting too. We'll see how this all goes! First thing Wednesday morning, I'm out of here.

December 11, 2007

I recently came across an old journal that my Boston roommate, Mahri gave me for my 21st birthday. The first entry I wrote (6 months later) was pretty heavy. Reading it now, I realize that I sometimes I feel like I'm in the same place. As the entry continues, I know that I've grown so much and that I'm still growing. It's a little melodramatic ... but I think the sentiments are extremely relevant to my life now. Rather than over explain it, I'll just get to it:

I just looked at myself in the mirror for the first time. I resisted for a while - but I looked. I searched my own face. Do I see the face of God or someone who I utterly lost?

"What's going on inside there?"

I am ... a murderer, a lover, a pornographer, a sinner, a man, a man, a wanderer, an explorer, a peace-keeper, a musician, a singer, a waiter, a butler, a mask-maker, a rock, a foundation, a house, a shack, a monster, a pest, a conqueror, a soldier, a believer, a friend, a lover, a child, a boy, I am strong.

In the search for what is, was, what could be and what will never be - I am lost. For the past few months - most notably, since summer - I have felt like I was on the brink of a realization... of coming to peace with myself. I've never felt so grounded in the truth of myself. Surprise! That didn't last (in its original form anyway). No kidding. In retrospect, this semester has pushed me to my limits - how far could I take myself? Overextended, overanxious, overambitious, overjoyed:

I am everything and nothing
I am not night or day
I am not whole or in pieces
I have a foundation
The more I give up control, the more I'm given!
The harder I grasp, the more things slip through my fingers

I will drive away from Boston in a week and a day and feel accomplished. At least I hope so. I hope I find relief and release and - something. The sermon at church this week was about faith and split into three parts: expectation, disillusionment, hope.

As Christians (and HUMANS) we wake up and hope for the unexpected to remove this sense of disillusion. As one of the three teachers that day put it: "We close our eyes at night hoping to wake up and something will have changed. That this nightmare will be over." When she said this, I nearly lost it. Moments before, I thought to myself: "I wish I wasn't who I was now. I want to be Mark from three years ago, before school." I wish and hope God will miraculously change me. That's unrealistic. If I want to change, I need to actively seek it and want it, and I can't wish for no pain or confusion and inner peace- all of this is earned. I know - I'm earning this now.

I'm earning this new identity. God is apart of my identity, but to what capacity? This semester, I have actively sought out church more and returned more to that sense of weekly renewal and forcing myself to be helpless and not in control. Try it. Next time I read this - NO MATTER WHAT you are struggling to control - I dare you to let go and put it in God's hands. No matter what.

So I read this, and I thought to myself, "Wow, how relevant!" (Given, I don't feel like a shell of a human, or nearly as lost as I was then) For all intensive purposes, I'm pretty damn proud of how I was able to assemble my life here. Still, a lot of the lessons I was frantically trying to pen at the time still ring true! I'm not going to wake up one day and have things fall into place. I can't try to control every aspect of my life. I am everything on that list ... probably more.

I think the long and the short of this lesson is simple: Get out of my head and away from the pen and paper, stop talking ... and just do. Ride the wave and relax. Stay proactive and trust that things will work out as they should.

OK, it's been getting too real lately. So for shits: here's a picture of my parents' dog, Maximus.

Night all.

Today's Lesson: Relative Geography

So I was talking to Natalie today about Boston and Los Angeles and it suddenly hit me: A 20 minute drive in Los Angeles is equivalent to a 20 minutes walk in Boston. Am I so jaded that I completely forgot that while living in Boston, I was within a 20 minutes walk of almost anything I needed? Let's compare:

Commute to School - 10 minute walk from my apartment across the commons
Commute to Work - 15 minute drive from my apartment across the 10 Freeway

Trip for Cafe Podema (Frozen Yogurt) - 3 minute walk around the corner from my aparment
Trip to Yogurtland (Fresh Vegetables) - 5 minute drive up La Brea from my apartment

Frantic Trip(s) to Mass General Hospital - 10/7/3 minute walk/jog/sprint to ER
Frantic Trip to Cedar Sinai Hospital - 15/15/15 minute Sunday stroll/drive/race to ER

Those are just a few examples of the relative distances I speak of. I just included the essentials, in their order of importance. The last one - the driving style doesn't matter where traffic is involved in Los Angeles.

Let's take a look at the bigger picture.

Exhibit A:

This is Boston proper. Daily business was conducted more or less in this area. I even included part of Cambridge for good measure. I lived in the area marked Beacon Hill with Mahri. Gas lamps, cobblestones and little shops everywhere. I miss it.

Exhibit B

This is the Greater Los Angeles area. Daily business can be conducted anywhere on this map. You never know where the day's work will take you. Assistant runs at work, weekend gigs on set, auditioning and the like - it's all fair game. If you can make it out, I live right next to that red dot north of the 10, South of the 101, East of the 405 and West of the 110. Good, you'll never figure that one out.

So what does this lesson teach us? What the hell were we thinking in Boston? Remember all those times that we were too lazy to take the 15 minutes commute to a show in Cambridge. Or a 10 minute walk back to school because you left your cell phone in the computer lab was a hassle? Or how about whining that someone lives in Coolidge Corner?! How lame to use distance as an excuse for not seeing friends while living in Boston. I guess, for that, I'm sorry.

I miss that Boston geographic scale. I remember leaving the city for breaks and vacations, how strange it was to look in the rear view mirror and see my little bubble of a city disappear into the horizon. Everything I needed was in this little microcosm. Now, that perspective is from a window seat of a Delta flight. As the plane swings over the coastline and turns back East, back to what used to be home, this perspective becomes more and more familiar. My perspectives are shifting constantly, but it's only every now and then that I am aware of the subconscious realignment. I miss Boston, but now, I'd also miss LA - I'd miss it a very great deal.

Oh, I almost forgot a crucial part to this lesson. What about the perspective and relative geography of my childhood? Here's that map.

Exhibit C

The King of Prussia Mall.

THE END.