Joel came to visit me this weekend and for a brief period I remembered myself. He left early yesterday morning and the sun came out in Boulder again (it hides whenever someone from the NW first arrives, maybe to make them feel more at home?). It was then that I realized I have been wallowing in escapism ever since I got here. I'm a pretty moderate escapist, to be sure. At my most desperate I simply get addicted to watching tv shows on DVD (okay, okay, sometimes with a glass of wine). I think I like the shows because I can get to know the characters, and I follow their lives like they are my friends. This has been my escape since I was a tiny child. Its when I find myself thinking about the characters throughout the day that I realize I am in trouble. "What would Veronica Mars do?" I will confess it to you, blog-readers. Since landing here I have watched the entire first season of at least 3 different shows--do you know how many hours of piano practice, meditation, cleaning my room, learning about the stock market, etc. etc. I could have gotten in with that time? I don't even want to utter it.
So I live this double life, by day a Boddhisatva warrior, a wisdom seeker, an artist and thinker. By night, an episodal addict. I think what I really realized during Joel's visit is that I have not succeeded in loving myself as much as he does. Or else I don't appreciate my own love as much as I appreciate his. On my own, my tendency is to wallow and be self-destructive. I know that making art and doing yoga are the best ways for me to love myself completely, and I need to be doing more of these things. Yes, I am in an artistic MFA program, but when I get home at night its like I want to turn my brain off, hide in my room and stay away from the soft and tender heart that I have been working so hard to cultivate. I will try, in baby steps, to get better. I have woven political documentaries and foreign films in between television discs on my Netflix cue, hoping to interject some intellect at least every other night. And I have been looking into some other living options. Perhaps it is living like I am still in junior high that has led to me holing up in my room like a teenager. I feel the strong need for my own living space, or at least to live with other people my age who want to build the same kind of home that I want. My landlords are lovely people, but it is a bit like living with one's grandparents--anytime before 9PM they are occupying the kitchen and dining room area cooking pies and doing bills, anytime after 9PM the lights are all off, the counters are wiped clean, and I sneak around in the dark indulging in the pleasure of spending time in the main living space, trying not to leave a trace.
P.S. Tonight's life-changing reference to something besides my life...Right now I am listening to the new Antony and the Johnsons EP "Another World": http://www.antonyandthejohnsons.com/
If you don't know Antony, then get in the know! If you do know Antony, perhaps you can appreciate the tip on his hot new EP. And if that weren't enough, little known fact--Antony went to Experimental Theater Wing where my teacher Wendell used to teach. I can totally picture Antony wiggling around on the floor like a starfish, as we do every day. Perhaps that's where he got the line "I'll grow back like a starfish". He also studied voice with Jonathan Hart, who is the son of Roy Hart, whose voice technique we are learning extensively with our teacher, Ethie Friend. In other words, I am on my way to becoming the next Antony (or at least a Johnson)!
1 comment:
you are in good company. sarah and i used to do the same thing and then beat our selves up for not doing herb school videos or lino-cuts, or yoga. and it is easier to wallow on your own, i've been an internet addict since i got to PA, i just can't stop. but escapism does get lonely and contains the possibility for desperation.
Post a Comment