MISSION ONE: DIVULGE
Simple, really. Write a blog.
I've been writing it in my head since 2004, when my last official blog was closed. Simple. Chronicle what Aaron has brilliantly titled our "Chrysalis Year", which began in earnest in October as leaves were changing along with bodies, minds and hearts. Simple. Detail the brutal, gooey bits and pieces of deciding to reinvent myself after a decade dedicated to one path. Offer up witty reflections on teaching myself to be a runner (literally and figuratively). Leave an e-trail of delightful nibbles about pain and gain and other rhyming cliches. Consult my father on content. Find he prefers "bents" like 20-something debtors writing about their financial strides. Feel insignifcant. Get comfortable with phrases like "social commentary". Return to the keyboard. Simple. Finally, just begin typing.
Here I am. I don't have a "bent". I have a blog. I'm 32, I'm smack dab in the middle of a hot, sweaty, staggering evolution and I'm gonna write about it. While it is true that I'm running suddenly (I mean, not like, after anything) and it's more than metaphor-worthy, I am in fact taking a breather from acting, and I've decided to finally leave a job I've been at for seven years, I'm more interested at the moment in the definition of the word "chrysalis". One I'm really partial to is: "a protected stage of development". I think this blog is just that: part of the hard candy shell that surrounds my resplendent butterfly.
Since I moved here at 19 everything's pretty much been laid out. Graduate, stand in line in leotard (that I worked shit day job to pay for), get part, act, cry, stand in line, read lines, repeat. That was the plan anyway. Part of surviving in New York is having a plan, some bit of tunnel vision that keeps you from being driven witless. I think it's far too ruthless a city to wing it in. But I'm gonna wing it for awhile and see if I can re-create myself from scratch. And you know why? Because I do what I do. That's shorthand for the startling truth: I'm in desperate need of a little rebellion, a little lack of foresight, a little moment-to-moment. That's why I didn't take my father's advice on the blog. I didn't pick a spin. I'm going to share my plunge into the rabbit hole with you as it happens. And if that means I tell you about how stupid it is that I took no for answer when I called Art Bar and they said they didn't have my glasses even though I knew I left them there, so be it. If that means I finally get to set in stone my list of lyrics that musicians can no longer use, fine (this will happen, just know that). Expect a side of social commentary with your in-depth reports on what it's like to train for a 10K while pursuing a freelance writing career. In other words, I DO WHAT I DO.
And then I write about it.
