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youngerdaniel · 6 years

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Exploration and Rediscovery

When I was planning on moving out to Vancouver, I’d been talking about it as an adventure. Sure, I came here for school; to hone and redefine a skillset that I’ve been working with for about ten years or so. Jeez, have I actually been writing for ten years? Probably more.

And really, if I’m being honest, writing is just the form I’ve chosen for a vocation that goes a long ways past that. Creativity has been the thing drawing my life together since I was a kid and my mom worked as a professional potter. I grew up in the house with an artist, and I was raised to always carry forth the vocation of the artist.

Hoity-toity, ain’t it?

But fuck it, I’ve been forking out large sums of cash to go to a fancy art school for about six months now. I can be as hoity-dang-toity as I wish. Fortunately for you, dear reader person, that’s about as far as I want to take that. I just promised I’d get more content up here now that I’m out of the hell-term, and here we are again. Hi, how are ya?

So I’ve been thinking. It hurt. I don’t recommend it, but I’ve come back with gems from the brain cave. Or at least, semi-hard things that I can convince tourists are priceless gems. I’m rambling. It’s almost over, okay? Bear with me.

THOUGHTS:

Over the years, I’ve played in a shitload of artist sandboxes. I’ve been a visual artist, a lyricist, a musician; I’ve written bad poetry, decent poetry, and made really bad short films (remember when Vine was a thing? Yeah.) I dabbled with photography, typography, lithography, and had an eight year tenure as a graphic designer. The summation is, in my life I have arted. A lot.

Most of you know me as that guy who wrote a few books and a chunk of short stories... And I fell into telling stories because, well, in most of my other artistic pursuits, I found I was always telling myself the story of what my life would be like when I got my big break. I was that kid who rehearsed bad post-punk songs to imaginary audiences in my bedroom, and my mom will gladly tell you the stories. Somewhere along the way I got greedy and well, if you’re reading this, you’ve likely read another post I did a while ago about the weird sequence of absolute chance that has put me out here at VFS.

If you haven’t read that, well, I’m sure you know how to use the search function. Go crazy.

An observation that’s fresh in my mind has emerged after spending a half year around a bunch of other talented creatives with their own perspectives, values, and agendas. Being at art Hogwarts means a new vista of influence, and I’m getting to it, but this is why I mention the whole artistic vocation thing above.

To be an artist is to have a perspective that you use a craft to share. Sometimes it’s a message, or an opinion, but above all else, it is the way you individually view the world. This view is always in flux, because as much as art is an engine for expression, it is also a vehicle with which you can explore.

And you should.

For me, I’ve been going in directions that play a lot differently from my novels’ tones and point of view. I’ve gotten more somber, I’ve dug deeper into my heart than I’m used to, and it made me uncomfortable but also glad to know there’s new stuff to mine... The well ain’t dry, and thank Cthulu for that. (Nobody likes a dry well—especially the guy who falls into it.)

But today I’ve been at a crossroads of sorts. Nothing major or world-altering... But I’m in the midst of settling on a short film that I need to turn in a first draft of five pages for on Friday. I’ve had two ideas. One of which is thematically deep, challenging, and important... And as many of my projects have since I came out here, it deals with love.

Good, good, great. All things I’m happy to explore. Things I feel are meaningful to play with, and a great departure from the usual gonzo fodder you’re used to.

And then there’s the second, which is just a stupid-ass interrogation between two tough city cops and a talking giraffe puppet, all about the murder of a stuffed bear named Ted D. Bear.

I know, right. There’s the usual dumbfuck stuff you know and have at least read.

Today, I finished class early and took to a cafe. I opened Final Draft and tried working out the scenes for the heavy-headed romance story (which is AI teaches scientists to fall in love again, in the short pitch form), and I slammed myself against the keys for a good couple of hours.

Here’s what I managed to write.

“ ...”

Getting stuck happens. I’m used to it, and I’ve learned to embrace it. But not in the self-punishy do nothing, wallow and drink cliched way. When I get jammed, I switch gears. So I moved over to the giraffe and the murdered teddy... And about an hour later I had my script.

When I finished, I thought about it. In one way, I’m chagrined that I can’t belt out the super cool artistic and thematically deep script... But I’m also getting the sense it needs more than 5 pages to do it justice. I want to do both. But I also realized that I’ve been really, really, overly self-serious and maudlin lately. Again, no hate to that point of view, but it’s a space I can only live in for a few months at a time. I’ll still try to get a draft of the other, but for now something is clear.

Exploration shows you new things, and it’s good to expand beyond comfort zones. It’s imperative to evolve, no matter what it is you do (unless that’s killing people. Killing people in more people-killery ways is still not cool. Sorry, murderers.) But exploration requires a return as well. It’s in the fucking Hero’s Journey template, so just take it up with Joseph Campbell. We only can track our growth by forging out and then returning to the familiar with new perspective... And today was just that for me. I’ve been expanding and going well beyond my comfort zone, and along the way I rediscovered the thing that I really love doing...

Which is telling a story that’s fun, silly, and has some sort of heart in its center. Not deep, but not self-serious either.

The journey’s not over yet. I know I have some projects coming up that aren’t exactly comedies, but then I’ve never actually written comedies. I just happen to use humor and absurdity to express my point of view. In film school, you’re encouraged to find a sort of consistency in your work; a recognizable brand that you’re known for. The funny guy. The thinker feature film guy. The action movie guy. The sci-fi champion...

What I do is just a little different, I guess. I’m always happy to dabble in a genre or form... But ultimately the thing I’m after is whimsy that still manages to play on the heart strings, and isn’t, you know, a big deal. I’d happily call my movies movies over films. And that’s just me.

We’ll see where things go. But sometimes it’s nice to just hit the page and remember what it is you like about that job. It’s not an easy one, and it takes a thick skin to make a living of it... So heaven forbid you enjoy it a little, right?

To be continued...

[presently binge-listening to the Cat Empire. Now you can, too: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D5AU0iBW3qw]

#journal

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