Inventory of Weapons

If you read this, congratulations: you're in on the secret that I'm laying low in St.Louis. I'm here to visit Aaron (my 'brother'). We're laying low and keeping it that way, so don't feel too bad if I don't swing by. Aaron is a rare and important treat for me and I know way too many folks in StL to see in a single swing by visit.

I did some retail therapy today: I bought some jeans that fit comfortably (see: not tight enough to not allow me to move and not baggy enough to make me a rapper) and some wonderful t-shirts that look very similar to t-shirts I already wear. I'm getting as bad as a certain friend who only wears three dresses, though I love her and her dresses.

My horoscope told me to take inventory of my allies and tools that can help survive the lunacy of the world. Here's a quick list of those people/things.

Aaron Baker

Aaron Chester

Gavin

Anne

Molly

Arthur

Liz

Lizbeth

ELIZAbeth

Joan

Janet

Randy

Mom

Dad

Brooke

Matt P

Matt D

Sarah H

Canada

Kylee (cuz she's just being Kylee)

Drew, my favorite Bartender

The slew of people I collaborate with in Theatre at Truman

Jon Becraft

Tara D

James Lochbaum USMC

Running

Working Out

Writing Poetry

Reading Poems

Practicing the Craft of Theatre (whatever that entails)

Just Writing in General

The Music of Ryan Adams

The Wombats "Lets Dance to Joy Division" which is my current Anthem

Driving in My Car

Coffee

Really Really Good Beer

Really Really Good Food

Bad Action Flicks

Neofuturism

Nate

Adrienne

Vlogging With the Gents

Hugs

Sarah Hass of McNair

Katie Tolle and Danielle

The word "Mettle"

And so on and so forth. I have a lot to be grateful for and a lot to feel good and confident about, and I think most people do, even in times of strife. I had a question of confidence or rather self early yesterday from a negligible event. It had me shaken and questioning the very nature of who I've worked so fucking hard to become over the past few months, the past year, the past life. I thought I was regressing, reverting into the version of myself most people are casually aware of and those who intimiately knew it as a highly anxious, depressed, scared man. Those days are done for now, and though tragedy may always by my door, due to the nature of existence and my past, I've decided to hug it and invite it in for a cup of coffee or make it my doormat.

With that said, it's time to go back to Aaron's for dinner. He's cooking fish and mushrooms and I'm so excited. I'm seeing the expendables (again), this time with Aaron. Am I tired of the movie? Maybe a little but nothing beats being with you friends at the end of the day.

Cheers from the Stone Spiral Coffee Shop.

Evolution

I almost went back and put the title in a sans serif font and with no capitalization. I soon realized that as much as I've changed this summer, some things will always remain the same. Such as my choice of fonts: Times New Roman is always a great way to go. Such a beautiful stand by.

I'm not sure why I'm entirely updating this, I should be laying in bed texting people, but I've felt the urge to write but I haven't done so in a while. I suppose this is a way to get the engine running for my moleskine again, no?

I believe that evolution occurred and occurs on all levels: physically, mentally, spiritually. I think it's just the process of growth. In many ways I think evolution(personal) is informed by God (or whatever you choose to call your higher power/nom de jour) or other spirits. You can only grow and change in response to certain stimuli, certain situations that bring out the advantage you have that will allow you to survive or that will push you into a different situation, perhaps an even less wonderful one.

I suppose where I'm getting at with this is that I've realized through my summer that I've evolved in a way I couldn't quite expect. I can't quite articulate it either, since it's still happening. It'd be frustrated normally but I'm done being frustrated with little things for the moment. For example: I've evolved as an artist. I think to a lot of people I've been identified as simply an actor. Nothing more, nothing less. But I also create poetry and do video blogs that have more in common with vignettes then something like this. My time abroad and my time interviewing and developing my research project (oral history of KC Fringe, ask me about it sometime) has cast a massive cloud over my future. I can't just be an actor anymore. That isn't satisfying. That isn't quite good enough. It was scary for a moment because I've spent the better part of 6 to 7 years very much wanting to just be an actor, while doing other things as part of my major or as part of my job. But the scariness has passed because I've realized that most people are many, many, many different things in their life times. People shift careers, mediums, families, histories all the time. Mark Twight moved from Mountain Climber to Marksmen to Fitness Coach. Anthony Bourdain was a chef who wrote a book who became a television host/man of insight who I admire immensely. My father changed from farm boy to frat boy to hair dresser to master electrician.

I think you can get my point. That as an artist I'm under going a massive change, and personally I'm undergoing a massive change. Two of my closest chums, 2/5ths of the 5 Horsemen moved to Chicago to start their lives as big city theatre people. I'm terribly excited for them because though they leave behind their friends (temporarily) and significant others (temporarily), they are starting new lives. At the same time: these are two of my closest male confidants who have been apart of my collegiate theatre and life experience, literally from Day Zero. So this year I start a brand new day of banding with those who I'm still close with here and those I will meet and hopefully not make too much of an ass of myself. Or be too much of a pretentious fuck, since I tend to run that risk as well.

Kirksville is quiet. It gnaws at me a little but if I learned two things this summer that I can share with anyone it is this:

1.) Learn to celebrate life, and embrace tragedy. Life can suck a lot of the time, but we should still find a way to enjoy it

2.) That Gandhi Quote, "You must be the change you want to see in the world." If you're bored, stop being boring.

That's all.

Cheers.

PS- Jamie, your CD is coming.

First Friday

Reporting form Canada's place in Overland Park.

I have to keep this brief like the Folger Coffee I'm drinking.

First Friday is this big cultural event that happens in the Crossroad District of KC every first friday in the summer. I went and saw the dance/performance group Canada works form, Quixotic Dance Fusion. They're quite badass. Flaming Hula Hoop + Singing=Nuff Said.

Met up with Jamie M and her folks at a neighboring Art Gallery. Wonderful people. Kind, generous and they spotted a meal and a beer for me at Hamburger Mary's. Nice place. Good burger.

Met Canada afterwords and wondered in the musky KC heat. It felt like 85 even at 10 o'clock at night. We stopped into a printing press place (hammerpress inc.) and I bought the Baker a house warming gift. It's a print of a black cowboy boot with a raven on it, showing it's heart.

We then wandered back to Hamburger Marys so Canada could grab a drink. We then soon realized we were infact at a Gay Bar. We chuckled, enjoyed the prescence of Lady Gaga on the tv screen, and meandered home.

It feels good to travel, even with small McNair responsibilities lingering. They will be taken care of, and I will get everything needed to be done, done. I'm a kinesthetic thinker, I think whilst in movement and for too long Ive been stagnant.

Safe travels, friends.

Jesus Christ what a long week.

Each day stretches longer then the one before, like a series of yawns amongst a tight group of people who never realized until the mice squeaked that they were tired, road weary, and nearly beaten.

I would be me disappointed in myself for not doing my stats tonight, no matter how much I need to do it but I need these allergies to calm the fuck down and go away. I've had them coped with my stress shit for a bit too long and it's just making me more angry. Just what Max needs, right?

In brighter news, the Aud Squad is forming a dance crew. Randy, Arthur, Gavin, Carley, Sarah, Hank, and Randy don't know yet but it's happening. I'm sure they'll bring their best moves. Lord knows Randy can do the spinaroonie like a champ.

I could reflect on theatre en generale, Truman Theatre, or the encroaching year and goals for it but my eyes are too heavy. All I want in the world is to make a small difference. Though I'd really like the chance to brush up my shakespeare in whatever David does end up directing. So, I'd be cool if I was lucky enough to be cast in whatever he ends up picking. Lab show, not so much. The one show I want to direct in this world wouldn't work with our hypothetical season.

Plus I just ultimately want to blow this pop sickle stand called Kirksville. I think it makes me callous perhaps that I want to get out of this place so bad, even perhaps at the sake of the friendships and bonds I have made in college but I could use a little time away from my baggage that lives 5 blocks south of me.

Sigh. Rant over. Geography shouldn't bother one that bad but it gets to me sometimes. So it goes.

Monument Day

My knees ache with the joy of experience.

My sinuses are clouded by unfamiliar allergens only explained by the wonder that is someplace new.

I keep having odd dreams but the trip is great, in short.

Hey blog, long time no see. I hope you've been doing well.

Somethings have changed since I last put something of any substance on the blog. I buzzed all my hair off (I have a pretty nice month growth now), I had a panic attack, experienced a repressed memory, found out I'm going to Liverpool, wrote some poems, and have been given a chance to make some theatre. So you get the good, you get the bad.

The panic attack was well...I'd rather not get into it too much more then the idea that I'm realizing how much my mind is in control of my body. Under extreme duress I begin to feel chest pressure, the stress of this week made me believe I was sick. I had this research proposal that (intellectually) I was fully confident that with minimal work I could turn in my proposal and get my research internship this summer. This internship isn't exactly something I want but something I need to do for McNair. Or rather, something I felt I need to do for McNair. Regardless, I'd much rather be acting, traveling, or doing the world some good. However, my research is going to be really fascinating, engaging, and a chance for me to wear something akin to a "No Reservations with Anthony Bourdain" sort of hat, except with people at fringe festivals.

Anyway, stressing about this proposal. I was stressed about it without knowing it, and I was manifesting symptoms of a cold: run down, congested. As soon as I turned in that sick son of a bitch I was feeling five million times better. I went running, I had dinner with Brooke, I drank. My body just rebounded. I think I was probably stressed by a multitude of other things (this trip to DC I leave K-Ville for in about 6 hours), my dad getting remarried (though I love my future step mom), and just life in general. My dad tells me to relax and enjoy the ride but...I can't. That's unfortunately not me. I'm decent at pretending to be 'cool'. I can handle histrionics and chaos around: I grew up around it, you learn to tune out. However, when my boat starts rocking I'm quick to just freak out. It's fucking weird.

Anyway, I'm noticing the physical effect it is taking on me. And this suddenly dipped into personal really quickly.

Uhh...Lady GaGa is really fantastic. Like honestly fantastic. I'm in love with Bad Romance. I'm not afraid to admit it either.

I think I'll write more when I get to DC later today. My fountain pen is working, and it's calling me.

It's funny how things can turn around in the span of a few hours.

I found out at 4:28 PM that my blood work turned out normal.

I found out at 5:16 PM that this summer I'll be going to Liverpool.

Holyshit. :)