Fight The Dawn
An Abstract Legacy

Acting

Free to be Nothing

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Every now and then there are those times where I take a long look in the mirror and I rarely like what I see. This past Saturday I was exposed to the raw truth in myself, all facades cast aside; I am not a good actor. I was crestfallen by this sudden realization and all my usual counterpoints and lies I sell myself failed. There was no running from this truth.

Embarrassed and ashamed I wanted to run and hide. I couldn’t help but realize that I have wasted the past 3 and a half years of my life on a worthless enterprise. Embarrassed that I had sold myself on this ridiculous ruse that I could actually become something great—that I actually harbored something inside of me that was worthy to be seen. I was back to nothing. Squandering money and time towards a futile dream forged through deceitful tactics.

Who the fuck am I? A question I have no answer to.
What the fuck am I doing? The question I always come back to.

I am so stupid. I am a joke. I look at all these artists around me and the greats I aspire to and I am nothing. Not even a shadow lying amidst their gilded glow. There are times when I am humbled and those are great, but this is not a humbling moment. This is the moment of truth where you realize you don’t belong. I have sought endless validation and found bits and pieces where I could but it always eluded me and now I know why.

Albeit being on a path for constant need of validation does nothing but crush the passion and art in oneself. I do not think I have truly played for a year. I have wasted an entire year. I have no semblance of structure for this craft or art. I struggle incessantly with mediocre results that become my ‘breakthroughs’—which for anyone else would be calloused cold reads.

The twelves stages of grief and denial hit me hard. I made it through though and I accept the truth reflecting back at me. There was always the realist inside me who knew the truth, he was just overshadowed by dumb dreams. The first step towards the road to recovery is acceptance. I accept the artist I am, or well person I am: as I am not an artist. I am here to have fun and fail furtively.

This realization of the truth has been a blessing. I’ve needed this. Lying to myself was taxing. The heaping of pressure and expectation was too tiresome. I am free now. Free to play. Free to laugh. Free to fail. Free to be nothing but me. I am no artist. I am no genius. I am no actor. I am nothing.

Truth

My Son

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My son, this silence you sit in was never meant to stifle you. Your voice was never meant to be cut off; a silent scream rippling across this endless void. You were meant to sing, to laugh, and to edify. You were only meant to gather yourself in these moments of quiet before charging back into the fray.

My son you were never meant to hide in the shadows. You were never meant to sail this sea alone. You were meant to lead; to embolden and empower others. You are a presence to be felt and a presence that feeds off others to reflect back their own glory. You are a mirror of grace and greatness.

My son you were never meant to suffer the weight of these wounds you carry. You were never meant to be defined by your depression or darkened by the desolation of that day. You were meant to shine brighter, to realize that everything you thought you lost was actually contained within your soul. You were meant to be free and floating, an example to lead others to heights they never could imagine on their own.

My son you were never meant to do yourself harm. You were never created to inflict any harm on anyone, least of all yourself. You were meant to heal. Every part of you was created to help those around you. Your hands were made to lift others up. Your feet created to stand as firm ground for those that were shaken. Your heart quickened to enliven empathy towards others. Your eyes brightened to see others for everything they are, letting them know they are never forgotten. Your tears prisms to reflect the promise made that even on the worst days better ones will follow.

My son you were never meant to hate. You were meant to love.

Ramblings, Truth

John 3:30

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Promise me this
If I lose to myself
You won’t mourn a day
And you’ll move on to someone else.

Neon Gravestones — twenty one pilots

The advancing assault continues in a cyclical fashion. The suffocating surge of self has advanced to it’s maximum depth. The oscillating orbit of this soul sounding satellite has reached it’s peak and now it is time to withdraw. These earthen banks gleam with fresh beginnings as they disgorge their retreating rival. The tears being left behind do not belong to the new found beaches that burgeon forth; being evaporated into a mist which no one misses.

Ecclesiastes 3:7

What was once void of surface life now enjoys the company of countless lives. Their dreams and aspirations as numerous as the grains of sand that hold them up. Homes of heart are built with foundations being laid deep into this land; cornerstones that shape the landscape into communities. Erecting a visage that has forgotten the torment which flowed here not so long ago. The resounding reason being the faith that this time the pendulum will not perpetuate its period.

Truth

Dear Friend

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I wish I could write you a happy update to this path I tread. I wish I could tell  you a story that would plant a smile on your face. I wish I could recollect a memory that we can revel in nostalgia. I wish that this decade past would have something to show, something to hold onto.

I really wish that I would have left you without worry. People still worry about me today, and maybe they should. I feel lost my friend. I feel…tired and restless, angry and dgaf. I feel like I just want to fight everything and everyone. More than anything I feel like starting over.

Maybe if I start anew I can fool them all over…just for a time. Find a little bit of solace in this eclectic existence. Not all who wander are lost, and some truly wish not to be found. It hurts…getting close. It hurts reliving these memories over and over again…they just won’t leave. She haunts my mind of late. Why? I don’t know. I also look into the eyes of a new one and…well, that’s a story best left to never be written. I wish I could forget. I wish I could turn off my mind.

I wish a lot of things. I wish you were here. I wish I could have traded places.

Love Always,
Your Friend

P.S. I still remember.

Acting

I Am A Fighter

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I’m scared of all that I don’t know.

Circles — EDEN

There has been a lot of fight in me these past six months. Dealing with my perceived failed audition to RADA and expectation of rejection and unworthiness. Struggling through a failing production which never found its heart; in turn leading to asking those questions of ourselves we shouldn’t be asking. The exuberance of getting into London and the immense frustration that came with studying there. The feelings of inadequacy, being lost, loneliness, anger, disprized love, hopelessness, pride, guilt, and shame, to name a few.

Followed up by a relatively successful production mixed with hubris, false smiles, and empty congratulations. Into a scene that is very personal to me and struggling in wanting to let that be seen; hiding it away in the dark recesses of my soul. My usual bouts with depression, and to top it off a last minute short film which left me only asking one extremely unspecific question, why?

We are told there is a divine dissatisfaction that is healthy to our art and craft. Something that keeps us humble and pushing forward in growth as an artist, but I have found the extreme side of that pendulum. Or rather I have run astray of ‘divine’ dissatisfaction and given way to self-loathing dissatisfaction. A crippling sense of unworthiness that demotivates and shrinks down.

I’m scared, but I know it’s not for long, because I’m learning what I’ve shoulda known before.

Circles — EDEN

I made a promise long ago and discovered a realization I can never let go. The darkness that surrounds me is thick and suffocating but the spark of life that is within shines brighter than any fog that sweeps through. I fight myself at every turn to keep that shining star dull and distant, not confident in its ability to stand and shine on its own. I fight my identity and truths that lay waiting within, content to live a lie that doesn’t allow me to rise so that I do not have to suffer another fall. We were never created to shrink away from who we are or to burn out slowly.

I never wanted to feel again because all I knew was this pernicious pain that permeated my core, and if I could somehow dull myself then I could somehow make it through this languish life. I created a lie of safety, but the existence of that lie could not live in harmony with the truth of who I am. I am alive. I want to feel. I want to cry. I want to laugh. I want to fall. I want to rise. I want to live!

I cannot live without my pain and suffering but I also live with joy and laughter. I have broken through another wall, burned off the overcast of fog that had descended upon this shining star, and now I get to see and experience new sights and sounds. I get to take a step forward in life and live. I take that step eagerly and with vitality, for I know too that this fog will come again. It will descend and try to darken and dwindle this living light within but it will never win. With each battle I grow stronger; I come more alive. I am a light unto the darkness and am called to share that light with others.

Ramblings

Nocturne No.15

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Deep in the recess of the mind we find what we hide. Full of richness of thought and delving into the darkest parts we hold inside. This little reservoir of truth that leads to the opening of the armoire of proof that we are but shadows of what we can be. And some of us are fortunate enough to find ways to break free—of these chains that burgeon and bind us with no key. But too often the story left untold is that of who’s soul is left to rot in winter’s cold.

— Sir Winston Lear

If I could share the sweet melody that swirls in the mist of thought that fills this unholy void you might be moved. You might even feel so much as to be inspired or if you are very lucky, shed a tear.  You might reminisce on a past version of yourself, connecting in thought and time to a specific place or feeling. You might smile from such nostalgia or shrink from the lingering fear. You might find yourself transported for a brief moment of time to a distant world rife with imagination, and dreams, and desires.

You might even go so far as to believe this fantasy I’ve created for you, but in the end that’s all it is, a lie. A lie I’ve created that is so deeply rooted in my cerebrum that to remove it, or change it, would mean the death of all that is me. I can fight the lie, or give into the lie, but I cannot kill the lie. There is no truth in these pale cold words because there is no truth inside. This hollow heart lies captured in a cage of a barren being. The tune you hear is faint and fleeting; the lingering lie of this cacophonous cry.

Ramblings, Truth

Memories Of You

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I hear the rain falling down in the background, the air filled with the faint smell of the freshly burdened ground, suffocating my nostrils as they desperately try to ease the growing anxiety within. My visage presents an outward lie to the world of cool demeanor while the memory of you boils up from below. You always knew how best to get to me and every time it rains I cannot help but think of you.

I’ve shrouded you in the black cloth of the pain that struck me most. Not a fair or fitting facade to fix your memory in, but I swore to one already that I would never forget and I cannot bring myself to wrestle with two haunting memories of a time I’d rather repose to ruins. Yet, I can never forget you. You stalk the maze of my mind, a gallant ghost, haunting these horrid halls; a reminder of what can never be forgotten, promise or not.

I was broken, and thus you were shattered. I couldn’t face myself and so ran from you. A melancholy morning in which not just two lives but two loves were lost. You suffered the cost of collateral damage from a coward you couldn’t console. Now as I look out into the rain it’s the reflection of your face I see. I try to speak but my voice fails me. Surrendering to the knowledge that you are better off without me and happier as just a distant memory.

Acting, Truth

The Method AntiHero

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In the beginning, when I first started acting, I had an idea of what was inside of me. I knew the person I was and the actor I could become. Over the passing three years I have muddled, disparaged, and forgotten that truth. Taking it and hiding it deep inside of me. Piling on false: aspirations, accolades, validations, ideas of greatness, and illusions of grandeur.

I created a persona who thought he could rise to the top; an actor who thought he could actually make it in this business. I convinced myself that I was some torch bearer for the school I represented. That I was a hope and beacon of light for those that would come after, paving a way for their future, a stone on the shoulder of giants for them to step on. I was convinced that I was a prodigy and protégé of those that had come before me; the next step in the future of our craft and art.

Oh the lies we tell ourselves are the worst lies. At the same time they are the most hilarious and I have had a good laugh in watching all those lies reveal themselves. I have not opened myself to deeper truths inside but constructed an intricate veil to hide behind. The veneer of the hero.

But I am no hero. I am no saint. I am no torchbearer, no protégé, no prodigy, no genius. I am the lingering festering nightmare that creeps out at twilight’s dawn. The rebellious and tarnished actor that has no hopes or expectations. The mangy underdog kicked to the side and forgotten. I created a spotlight for myself when it’s in the shadows where I thrive.

So eat to your heart’s content you aryan bastards bathing in the light of these false suns. Take a stroll down your red carpet of bloody tears into the golden room. Keep to your closed minded ideas and bitter resentment to the dawning empire that never saw the night. Take control you wretched false hearted statues of these hollow accolades—which are filled as much as you are inside. Let the respective worlds you toil in recognize you all.

For I will toil in my darkness, eating the scraps I can steal away from your gluttonous exhibitions. Content to wander these dark hallways. I am done feigning the greatness that others impose on me. Everyone has an idea of who I am and I am bone tired of trying to realize their false identity. I know who I am, always have, and I don’t give a shit if you agree with it.

Ramblings, Truth

The Secret Longing of my Heart

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After running away most of my life, I made a decision to run towards what haunts me instead, and it has been the greatest regret of my life. I’ve thrown my life to the mercy of the authorities once before and tonight was another chance to do it. I could end it all with one sentence and burn out and disappear. I’ve played the scenarios over and over in my head.

It would be all too easy. Ditch the sim card and current carrier to gain a new lease on life with a new number no one past knew. Drop the job and everything I have here. Drive up North to a little place where I have a job waiting for me if I needed it. Clean up the social media contact or ditch social media once and for all and setup a new email. That’s really all there is to it.

I could take up the simple life again. I once lived it for a glorious 6 months and ruined it to chase a dying dream. I don’t think you understand me, everything I lived so far in this city is a lie. I am not the man you suspect me to be. The only solace you will understand is that I am too much a coward to follow through. So a life that is a lie I will continue to live but I will fail one day; and on that day it will be goodbye forever.

Acting

Another Year, Another Yard

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Last year I wrote how it would be the year in which I took the biggest risks. I talked about how it would possibly be my biggest and busiest year. I had so many goals and aspirations. Well I achieved them all.

I went for it and put myself out there, throwing everything on the line. I failed a lot and I beat myself up too much at times. Still, I continued on. I picked myself up and pushed forward, intent on seeing this course through to the end. Upon reflection it was my greatest year yet.

I didn’t mean to hurt you, when I hurt myself.

Illenium—Take You Down

It was a year of some of my deepest and darkest struggles. I’ve had to face the worst sides of myself and as I wrote earlier, I almost didn’t make it. There were too many times I wanted to give up. Too many times where I lost faith in myself and in this charge that was given to me. Every time I was about to quit, though, I held on and shortly after found a breakthrough instead. My coach has always said this journey we pursue as artists is about perseverance. It’s not easy being an actor that truly goes after truth in their art. For to truly achieve truth on the stage, I believe one must face the truth in themselves. For me that was facing a lot of: hurt, pain, despair, depression, broken promises, rejection, and ugliness inside.

Sometimes it’s like an ocean, and it gets too deep.

Illenium—Take You Down

In facing all that, though, I found: peace, joy, happiness, a smile, confidence, beauty inside and out, and a Love that conquers all. I found my Angels amidst my Demons, and in what I thought was my dark abyss inside, my well of beautiful colours to paint with. We are so rich inside. My love for this craft and myself was tested. It was laid bare and exposed. I was more vulnerable than I had ever been and I wanted to cover it up and protect it. I did not think it could survive on its own and could not see that it was the only thing saving me; the only thing keeping me going.

I have some lofty goals for this next year, as there should be every year, but they are secondary in thought. My primary purpose and goal is to keep this vein of Love pulsing and fully exposed. To cast this net of Love wider, enveloping all those that I come across and interact with. Building up, encouraging, and pushing myself and fellow artists. Investing it into every character I take on, leaving nothing hidden and putting it all on the stage. To remember to have fun and play. Last year was about taking big risks—this year is about playing to the max, filled with Love.

Yes, I want to go back to London for a Masters program. Yes, I want to film my web-series I’ve been working on with friends, do a Shakespeare production, and many more things. Greater than all those, though, is to remember that this year is another step amidst a life long journey and that it is the journey that matters, not the end. The end will only be as great as the accumulated memories. I want to be present in every moment this year, and with every person I encounter. To allow these eyes to take in and receive the magnificent beauty that is contained within each passing moment and return it with the Love that runs within.

There will be many struggles and failures in this next year, of that I have no doubt, but they are also part of the journey. My failures and struggles of the past year have forged me into who I am going into this next year. I would trade them for nothing. I will play and Love, regardless of the outcome. I said last year that I could not accept living with the regret of not putting everything on the line. Well I will continue to do that and hold fast to that. I also add for this year that I cannot accept making this journey about the end. Instead I must live every moment. The time of fear, self-doubt, and holding back is at an end.

Love the art in yourself, not yourself in the art.

Konstantin Stanislavski

I’ve let go of control over my dreams and aspirations before, taking a different path then what I had planned. Yet, this moment still feels weird and new. I truly do not know where I will be this time next year. Two months ago it was surely LA, but that is one option now amidst a sea of others and I’m not concerned with it. It will reveal itself through the course of this next year and I have faith it will be where I need to go. Again, my focus is on myself, this craft, and in living each moment with abounding Love.