Saturday, December 31, 2011

2012 Predictions


1. Obama will be reelected
2. Miami Heat will win the NBA Championship
3. Congress will reinstate soda pop as a fruit and acceptable to serve in schools
4. Advertisements will be projected on the moon
5. Tony Romo will be bumped to second string or traded
6. Skunk hair styles will fade out
7. Thievery will increase by 35% nationally
8. Congress will prohibit the making of an M. Night Shyamalan film, if only to give something back to the community - their time
9. Dub Step Fight Songs at NCAA Football Games
10. Texts from Bennett will slowly become more and more intelligible. Hey, the more you write, the better you get. That's God's honest truth.


Happy 2012!

Sunday, December 25, 2011

The Waking Hours That Bore Us All

In spite of constant ridicule, an over-the-top approach to both reality and fantasy is the mistress that hides in our closets. We may attempt to store her away, but she'll find a way to make an appearance.

Much like with fantasy, to mount a reflection of reality through art or education, we cannot simply ignore our urges; we must let her breathe. So we dig deeper and deeper into the story. Like journalists of the future, we tell stories that may stem from simple situations, yet expand into an alternative reality so farfetched that it magically transforms into possibility.

Ignoring the laws of nature only allows for our haunting lover to wear another costume. But those who dwell in fantasy do not fear the consequences, for they are either with their Gods or they are God. They accept the secrets in the closet and display them with no earthly limits.

To tell the story of reality, we compete against one another for control over the insanity. We reach with two bloody arms into the pregnant guts of humanity in hopes of pulling out something that resembles the present, the past, or the future. A newborn jammed with sadness, hate, greed, sickness, forgiveness, kindness, bravery, wisdom, and glory. Yet we often fail in our attempts at finding an original child to nurture and take a seat with the stories that have already been told. We fail to let our own closet mistress introduce herself to the world.

Instead of retreat, we tell the same story until its warped and flawed and hardly resembles the original. A pointless circle that results in the fall of entire genres, the fall of exploration, and the dependance on the half-scripted capture of a trivial part of society.

I say let her out. Include her in your teachings, your writings, your speech. Of course give her the respect of a formal debut, but don't wait for the vultures to find her stuck in the midst of your possessions or your fears. Put some clothes on her then let her run wild.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Time To Face Your Maker.

It was the fall of 2005 and less than a year out of my undergrad when I first visited New York City. Through lies and exaggerations, I got hired by a production company to ship, install, and operate A/V. When orders were put on my desk to truck it up the big apple, I packed up my headphones, travel guide, and the most sophisticated attire I could wrangle and marched a 24' box truck full of gear to the city.

I had three items on my NY check list:

1)Visit 3 museums
2)Walk through Central Park
3)Attend a Broadway Production.

I subcontracted my duties to another technician so that I could play in the street all day. I quickly visited the MOMA, the American Museum of Natural History, and the Met. I took several long walks through the park. But even after staring at all the posters; Chicago, The Lion King, Phantom of the Opera, I couldn't decide on what show to see. Then I noticed this little flyer for a title I happen to be familiar with. Only a few months past, Gregory Maguire had sent me on a highly descriptive, nearly poetic adventure with his novel Wicked, a runoff from the Wizard of Oz. It seemed a fair choice. A fresh musical for a beginning theater goer.

My sis, who spent a year at NYU, set me up with a couple of her ex-roommates. I asked one to accompany me to the Gershwin Theater for a evening showing of Wicked. We sat dead center and just a few rows back from the stage.

I walked into the Gershwin Theater as an unmotivated, novice audio technician. I left as an aspiring lighting technician/designer. I had never realized how lighting can cooperate with creating setting. I had only read about how an audience can be launched into a different atmosphere altogether, yet remained in the same seat throughout the performance. I was floored. I embarrassed my date with my spastic rants and critiques. If I had another $180 to blow, I would have gone again. And I didn't even really like the songs.

Being a youngster and only a little less naive, I didn't even bother to research the creative team listed on the program. It wasn't until I became directly involved in theater several years later, when the big names in theater starting become more familiar. And when I heard Ken Posner, lighting designer for Wicked, Hairspray, Catch Me If You Can, was coming to Dallas to light a musical, I fist pumped with my cat.

And when I found out he was coming to MY theater, I sharted. It was going to be my sole responsibility to implement Mr. Posner's design. The guy that sparked my interest in the art of light. The guy who gave hope to those of the trade.

I have to say, it feels like a test. Maybe its a self-induced test. Or maybe its Zeus or Xenu, trying to stick it to me good, just to see if I got what it takes to play with the big boys. If so, they must be laughing their faces off as they watch me pace around fidgety as me and Mr. Posner discuss our plans for the show over the phone. All the calm, cool, and relaxed communicating skills I have been developing over the years has completely escaped me. I wouldn't be surprised if I got mailed a Valium along with the plots and paperwork.

Either way, its a good experience for number one. I'll sweat, loose my cool, have trouble sleeping, make trips at 4am to the theater to work something out, yell at my staff, make mistakes, and piss lots of people off. But after its all said and done, I will have learned, grown, and acquired new tools for my career and as an artist. I can't help but feel as if I am on a righteous path, riding the snake, going with the flow, feeling the vibe, swimming with current, etc, etc. And its way too late to jump ship now.

Help me Tesla, your my only hope.