Strictly Personal

I added a new post (Maroon) to Squiggle. Definitely not my best, probably not my worst. But it was easily the hardest, the most embarrassing and the piece that will continue to haunt me. The reasons are simple, my face is analyzed. When beauty is achieved, I feel vain. When ugliness is achieved, I feel pain (no rhyming intended). The only time I was happy with it is when I lose myself in front of the camera, where I am unawares of the camera. And I can truly say that I surprised myself with that ability, and more, with my courage. But I feel I edited out some truly good acting moments. I understand now why actors see editors as arch rivals. In this case, I was my own worst enemy.

Sometimes I edited something because I did not look good. Yes, I was deeply shallow. This is not the right thing to do — to edit one’s own acting. Sometimes I edited because at the time I wasn’t feeling what should be felt. Even though, that means nothing, especially in this case. Why? Because I was basically editing myself saying gibberish. No, not the content, the actual language I spoke was gibberish. A series of bidibi’s. After a couple of hours of editing. I felt like I was losing my head. I had to take more breaks to differentiate the bidibi’s. It was easily the most absurd thing I have ever created and I have created a shitload of absurdity.

I was initially going to talk gibberish, whatever came out of my mouth. But it was hard, creating gibberish and remembering the lines. Kelly suggested bidibi. It was brilliant. It helped my performance, all I had to do was focus on the tone of my voice and my expressions.

There is another personal element to this piece. To those that truly like me and respect me, they will see something. To those who don’t will unable to see anything substantial. I can say this because no one currently is aware of this blog. This isn’t me trying to stick them up. I don’t plan to do nothing here but write. But it is interesting to hear people’s reaction. Do they see my courage? Or do they see me falling on my face? Do they see what I am trying to say? Or do they see me acting?

I am afraid my Mom will hate it but only because of good reasons though. She will wonder why I would put myself in danger of being further stereotyped. Others that hate it, will see all that rough coming out. I am overstepping my boundaries, I am out of my element and they see the limits of my abilities. The nurturers of my life will see growth and they will encourage me. It is like the Godfather, when Michael is advised by his father that the traitors will show themselves in such and such way.

I don’t think I am against criticism. No. I know this piece has a lot of crap. I have watched it once all the way through. Seriously. It bored me to tears. But someone’s comment can indicate how they see me. A compliment means nothing but instead what they choose to compliment. Same with criticisms. Some are giving you something, others are seriously thinking about your growth as an artist.

Am I being analytical? Yes. And I wish I could stop. Funny thing is that it doesn’t affect my confidence as such. It is just intriguing. I hate to feel like an idiot is more like it. I want to know whether people real like me. Not because I might be disliked but that I will be a sucker for somone’s crap. I want to know who my real friends are.

All the gibberish stops here.