In no particular order:
Plant seeds (real and symbolic) In the ground and in people's minds.
Find my wife.
Have kids.
Help the world.
Fight for my causes and beliefs and to protect those that cannot protect themselves.
Make movies. Standalone entertainment with a message to those open enough to receive it. Visually kinetic and colorful.
Talk to people.
Talk to kids.
Be funny.
To inhale combusted cannabis freely.
Do entheogens, advocate education.
Eschew hard drugs, advocate education.
Work out, regularly.
Eat healthy. Eat clean. Eat fresh.
Be the best father I can be.
World-Famous Filmmaker/Philanthropist/Story-Teller/Comedian/Father/Bodhisattva
To be a household name.
I want a female partner.
I want to spend some time in Japan, rather I want to spend as much time in Japan as I want, East Asia in general, but specifically Japan.
I wanna live somewhere near fresh local food. Pre-prepared restaurant style and available at the market.
With a good deli and fresh fish. Fruits and veggies.
I wanna live somewhat near the ocean but not in danger of being flooded. A beach. And near a river and the mountains and the forest. A green one. With animals.
To positively impact those around me.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
BRAINSHIT
I need more fresh vegetables in my life. And fruit. And real meat.
I have things to say, I feel an intense need to express myself, and yet at the same time I feel woefully inept at doing so.
Such is life, I suppose. And the human condition. I don't suppose I'll supersede that until much later in life, if ever.
Channing Loftion? Where did you go? Do you still speak to God? [Pray]
Summon UFOs?
I saw a sleeping bee, today. Little buzzer musta been cold. Snapped a pic.
I have things to say, I feel an intense need to express myself, and yet at the same time I feel woefully inept at doing so.
Such is life, I suppose. And the human condition. I don't suppose I'll supersede that until much later in life, if ever.
Channing Loftion? Where did you go? Do you still speak to God? [Pray]
Summon UFOs?
I saw a sleeping bee, today. Little buzzer musta been cold. Snapped a pic.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Choice and Sacrifice
1:00 on Monday. I should be doing community service right now. Or packing. I called off. In a 'chicken or egg' moment I can't tell what caused which. Directly after calling off my stomach started to hurt. Could I have subconsciously anticipated this? Maybe. Psychosomatically created this? Again, plausible. Or perhaps a more mystical explanation is fitting? Maybe God is punishing me for Straying From The Path.
I know it seems bratty (because it is) but after 7 months of little more responsibility than a teenager not yet of driving age, one tends to grow spoiled. Getting used to watching movies, playing videogames, surfing the web and working out whenever I wanted has made my recent productivity feel laborious by comparison. My higher thinking knows I'm doing the right thing, and has me vowing to stay on track (which I will) but my lower human self needs a break.
Yesterday was Sunday and supposed to be my Day Of Rest. Of all the dogma and rules I've assimilated from organized religion over the years, there is but one hard and steadfast rule I ascribe to: there is to be no work done on Sunday. Sunday is the Day Of Rest. Early in my foray into the workforce, unavailability on Sundays was built into my rider. Filled out on every application. And I was generally a better worker because of it. I postulate that as long as you know you have one day of the week on which there are no responsibilities or obligations, during the rest of the week you will much more easily be able to push yourself. If your jogging in the desert, hoping to find water or civilization, you might wanna slow your pace, lest you never come upon it. Without the foreknowledge of its existence you must act carefully. But if said desert was equipped with an oasis every 2 miles or so, and you knew this, well running through it might become a game. You might even push yourself to see how fast you can clear the desert gaps in between each rest stop. The days of the week are no different in my mind.
Yesterday didn't go as planned (few things ever do). And as such my need to rest is spilling into Monday. It was your typical case of being so busy during the week with work (and community service in my case) that the weekends are the only time you actually have to get household chores done. Laundry, dishes, cleaning, etc. And again, in my case, packing. It kinda sucks when you've been pushing yourself for 6 days and then on your 7th you still have work to do, albeit located at your home instead of the office. I didn't get nearly as much packing done as I wanted to. Indeed, other than boxing up a few video game systems my only real accomplishments yesterday were bringing up boxes from the basement into my bedroom and clearing out a single draw of a beater chest I keep in the basement. Abysmal.
In addition to being swamped with things that simply need done I was left with a mental burden as well. One that was the main cause of my calling in sick today. After a few phone calls with friends and family and a lengthy one with my Mom it was decided that I should see if my grandfather would be willing to house some of my stuff temporarily. After going through a list of other family members my Mother arrived on him with glee and the explanation of "Well since your grandmother passed away and no one else other than your Uncle lives with him, he has that whole big house to himself. Plenty of room. Give him a call." After hearing that, I did a dangerous thing: I built up hope and expectations. My Grandpa is somewhere in the realm of 80 and lives in a pretty large house. This seemed a surefire bet. Something to bank on. Well after a short phone call with him that was shot down. Much to my chagrin. A few calls to random other family members tried to stop the bleeding but the damage was done. The blow had been dealt. My peace had been robbed.
I am not getting down on myself or saying that I'm giving up, I am just saying that I need a breather. Especially because this time around I know where my oasis lies and I have miles and miles of desert to trek before reaching it. Yes I am dealing with some hardships now but in actuality things are only going to get harder. And soon. I have to be out of this place in exactly a week to the day. Other than having a friend offer to let me crash on his couch I have no clue as to where the lion-share of my possessions are to go. Obviously when with him I'll be bringing the bare essentials, clothes, toiletries, etc. But a good many of my accumulations are still unaccounted for.
Again, I'm not losing sight of my goal or my path, I'm merely taking a moment to compose myself on a nearby bench. That bench in this case being this blog. I've been talking to a few professionally trained therapists lately, simply by chance, and in addition to being busy, my gushing to them seems to have sapped my need/desire to gush on here. They are simply friends and not being paid or actively striving to counsel me (nor I to them) but we inevitably end up doing so anyway. It's human nature. Background in psychology or not, it is simply how friends interact. We help each other through things. Before the field existed many of us got our therapy in (my opinion) a much more natural way. From friends and relatives. Closed loved ones. Not paid detached third parties. I'm not knocking the profession or devaluing its practices or practitioners (or patients), I am merely stating that it is a recent development in human history.
In much the way my fictional brothers, the pair Elric, have tried to cheat the system, I too am looking to have my cake and eat it too. I mean what's the point of having cake you can't eat? And how exactly does one eat cake that one does not have? That phrase has NEVER made sense to me.
"To obtain, something of equal value must be lost."
"Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is Alchemy's First Law Of Equivalent Exchange." - Alphonse Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist)
Is this always this case? Is this the only way to gain? It would seem so. Alchemy and the symbolism of Alchemy seems to pop out in most aspects of my life. With cooking, the ingredients are sacrificed to make a complete dish. With bodybuilding/fitness, water, money, food, time, and energy are sacrificed to create muscle mass and performance. It's all there. It would seem to be an immutable law. It goes hand in hand with the concept that there is no such thing as a free lunch.
My Dad is a hardworking man. As most fathers are. I cannot even begin to imagine the sacrifices (both physical and mental) that man has given for the benefit of his family. For the benefit of me. For as long as I can remember my dad has been on the road. His presence at home was very rare and sometimes disruptive. Without getting into too many details I will outline a telling analogy. Much like me (like father like son) my dad is a very clean and organized man, and as such he would often clean during the time he was actually "stationed" at home. I say stationed because now that I think about it, it was similar to military leave. He is a Health & Safety Inspector and has been one for years. His duties (along with paperwork) mainly consist of supervising others in hazardous environments. Dealing with nuclear waste, etc. He came to this job at entry level, and being the man that he is quickly moved up the ranks. Unfortunately, many who hold his same position are trained. Have been to school. Have a piece of paper that says they know what they do. My Pops has no such paper. He only has his grit and his experience. Due to this he has largely been dicked around by the system for as long as I can remember. He'd spend 6 months away in Guam and then come home for 6 months. As a kid, 6 months is a very long time. Certainly long enough to make the man who contributed to giving you life feel like a stranger. My sister and I (my youngest sister had yet to be born) grew accustomed to our Mother's ways and (despite being a positively wonderful man, one of the best human beings I've ever known) when my Dad was home it kinda through things out of whack. Even for my Mum. Back to the cleaning thing actually, I can remember more than one phone call from my Mom to him where she grilled him about where he had put certain items during his stay. He was always putting things away in high or hard-to-reach places. At least high and hard-to-reach for women and children. For him it was simply organization and efficient use of space. He'd go to Ohio for 3 weeks and then be home for 2 days, New York for a month and a half home for 2 weeks. He travelled all around the country, and at times around the world. He had to go where the work took him. Like I said, I can't even begin to fathom how taxing that must have been for that poor man. (Or my mother.) 80 hour work weeks, sending the greater portion of his paychecks home to his wife and children, while he slept in hotels and lived on his per diem. The bare minimum. A superhero for sure.
Well about 2 years ago now (maybe longer or more recent, but I'll say 2 for the sake of argument) he got an offer for a permanent job in New Mexico. The job itself was a dream job. For him and my mother. Finally, this man who had been on the road for 15+ years simply to keep food in our mouths and clothes on our back was getting his due. And my mother, who after giving birth to a miraculous third child (one the doctor's say she should not have been able to have and hence earning my baby sis the nickname "miracle child" which was sometimes used derisively by my other sister and myself) had to also get and secure a job to contribute to raising us was also finally getting a break. Samantha is 5 years younger than Taylor and 7 years younger than me. Quite a gap for siblings and quite a gap for parents. At just the point where money was being shelled out for kids now aware of fashion and clothes and interested in and performing extra curricular sports and activities and such they now had to provide for a new born.
Honestly I don't know how they did it. Raising a baby is one thing. But doing it while also maintaing two elementary age children is a feat nothing short of a superhero status. My mother too, a superhero. Both of my parents, a duo of superheroes. The disparity only continued through the years. High-school age kids needing car insurance and help with new cars and rides to work, with an elementary age child attending choir practice and concert recitals. Just thinking about it makes my head spin.
My parents are simply amazing people and I could devote more than a few entries solely to them (and probably will) but I gave all this background to put a certain scenario into context.
When my Dad was offered this job that was well-paying enough that my mother would not have to work, it was again in New Mexico. That meant getting rid of possessions that couldn't make the trip and saying good-bye to most of the family that is settled here in Western PA.
I was well into my twenties at the time and for the most part independent, so this did not affect me as much as it did them. I had a job, a license, a car and soon my own place. I also had a girlfriend that I still consider to have been the love of my life. In addition to her there was my best friend Kevin and a slew of other people keeping me here. It was decided that I would stay. Despite my ability to remain behind with my other younger sister, who also stayed, I still felt for the sacrifices my parents were going to have to make. More so for my Mom than for my Dad. For my Dad this was a well deserved dream come true. He'd finally be able to go to work during the day and return to his wife and kids (well, kid) at night. Any one who knows him knows he's wanted this forever and moreover knows he's deserved it just as long. It was high time it happened. But for my Mom, the transition wasn't so easy. She had settled down. We lived on the street she grew up on, with one of her sisters occupying the actual house where she grew up. All her brothers and sisters (6 total including her) were within driving distance. Many within 5 minutes or less. She comes from a very tight-knit family and maintaining that closeness was/is crucial to her. Despite tapering off a bit after both of her parents passed away, her side of the family still regularly gathers for holidays, birthdays, weddings and the like. Something I think they all need. Including her. Moving to New Mexico for her would mean forfeiting all but one or two of these events. She could only attend when finances and my father's schedule would allow them to fly back out.
It has since struck a nice balance with her brothers and sisters (all well established adults) occasionally flying out to spend a week or so with her and my dad and sister, sometimes in tandem. Even so, the strain must still be enormous.
At the time when this was a bridge yet to be crossed, I instinctively knew I too would one day be crossing it.
My Dad from having lived on the road for so long and perhaps simply from being male is a much more mobile human being than my Mother. He is quite used to living on the bare minimum and making do with what he has. Only buying or acquiring what he needs as the need arises. My Mother on the other hand is a wonderful Mother Hen. She created an amazingly comfortable nest for herself and us there on Eastern Avenue. Filled with all the amenities you'd expect of a typical North American White Upper/Middle-Class family to have. Dog, cat, a car per licensed driver. Big screen TV, TV in each of the kid's bedrooms, a well-stocked kitchen (both in instrument and ingredient) which she frequently utilized to more than adequately provide for our needs and occasionally to entertain guests. She was established. Settled. In her element. Tasteful knick-knacks every where, drapes matching carpets matching couches and so on. And seasonal sets of each. I always teased her with "When the pilgrim and turkey salt n pepper shakers get put away, the snowman and reindeer ones are coming out." She had a seasonally themed item for most everything in the house and regularly rotated between them as the seasons passed.
All of this and her family would need to be left behind. She was moving into unfamiliar territory.
While I did sympathize with her greatly at the time I was maybe not as apt or able to show it. I was even a bit cold. Not because of anything like being an unfeeling psychotic, but because it simply did not apply to me. My mind could recognize the gravity of the situation and yet it did not affect me. Literally and emotionally. I have an Uncle that is particularly handy and oft called upon to supervise or undertake repairs to homes or cars within the family (I think everyone has an Uncle like that) and a few times I've been privileged (Or burdened depending on my age and outlook at the time) to work with him. He is a old-world man with old-world values but an intense sense of humor. That's a pretty accurate descriptor for most of my Mother's siblings and her side of the family in general, but particularly for him. Being the oldest of the 6 he is the quintessence of that dynamic. A cigarette-smoking, beer-swilling (in the past), country-music-listenin', handyman Zen Master. Again, I could devote an entire website to the gems I've heard fall out of this man's mouth. One of which being "Ain't my house." Said jovially but still meant in that truth said in jest sort of way. When something would go wrong with a particular project, say a piece of molding falling off a bannister, or a crack accidentally forming in a wall, he'd let out his hearty yet raspy, wheezy and guttural smoker's laugh and follow it with a "Hey, ain't my house!" More like 'hahs' this being Pittsburgh and all. He never meant it mean and almost always went on to repair the damage himself or to leave proper instructions for us to do so, but the care-free zen-like attitude has always stuck with me. At the end of the day, no, it was not his house. This was largely how I dealt with my parents shuffling thousands of miles off to the other side of the country and leaving prized possessions and family members behind.
"Ain't my problem." Again, I was not entirely unsympathetic nor am I a heartless individual, but the fact of the matter remained, it simply was not my problem. I had a car, a girl, a place, a job, a life. Here in PA. No sacrifices needed to be made. But even then I had a sense that eventually I would be pulled out there. In the back of my mind I knew that one day the sacrifices that they made, I too would have to endure. And here we are.
The West has always held a pull on me. I've lived there before and I continue to gravitate toward it. Well before my parents headed that way. Yes I am Tertium Quid and a mix of both East Coast and West Coast mentalities, but spending most of my adult life on this coast has left me enamored with the other. The grass is always greener. Much like I identify with the Japanese more than Americans, so to do I defer to the Left Coast. In much the same way I hold the French lifestyle in high regard above America's I also value the Californian mindset over Pennsylvania's. I am an East Coast, Pennsylvania Pittsburgh boy through and through and this part of the world will always feel like home to me, or at least serve as a base of operations but like many other men before me the cry of "Go West, young man! Your future is untold! You can find your dreams on the California Coast!" rings powerfully through my head and acts like a magnet to draw me in that direction.
There are several geographical (and cultural) locations to which I am drawn, in no order: The UK, France, Japan, California, Oregon, Pennsylvania and Australia. And I believe that the path to stepping on the soil of each of these lies in first heading West. Within the next five years I plan on being the next James Cameron or Steven Spielberg. More accurately the one and only Josh Vish. Yes I aspire to be rich and famous but those are only tertiary goals to my main causes. Making film, being a father and benefitting the world. As long as I get to do those last three I don't care whether or not the wealth and fame come. I simply desire them to facilitate my goals. And yes, maybe a bit out of ego. I want to make movies like Avatar, Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, The Matrix, Fight Club, Into The Wild. Entertaining pieces of fiction that also serve as lessons to those willing to learn them. And I want to be the best father I can be. I also GREATLY desire to spend time in Japan, observing its landscapes and scenery, culture and people. That last goal is the most "pointless" or "self-indulgent" Ultimate Goal I have. I have been in love with Japan for quite some time now and I really want to see it up close.
As it stands now I believe that in order to achieve those things I must head West. I spoke about it in my last entry, but it's worth reiterating. I need to complete my legal obligations here, and then move forward (meaning West) with my life. I'm not getting any younger and I've already wasted a good bit of time being "lost", so it's high time I make my dreams a reality. Next to fulfilling the stipulations of my being legally able to leave the state I also need to further streamline my person. Mentally and materially. I have made great strides in both, incredible strides really (I shall have a hell of a "True Hollywood Story" or "VH1's Driven" if they still make either of those) but I still have more to make.
"The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."
- Frost
Robert really put it best (and quite poetically), but that's where I am. I am battle weary and exhausted, ready to quit. And without a goal I would've likely succumbed to weakness and old ways by now. As it is, all actions I undertake, including calling off my community service today and typing this blog are with my Ultimate Goals in mind. To me this is progress. Forward momentum. I needed this. I didn't get it yesterday, so I'm taking it today. Writing centers me. It gives me peace. It helps me regain myself.
I already know this entry is coming to a close and with the end in sight I feel rejuvenated. Invigorated with purpose. Typing and re-reading this serves as a very long mantra, a re-realization of my goals. I am motivating myself.
I said I always knew I'd eventually deal with the dilemmas my parents had to deal with when they headed out West, and they are drawing near. I know I'll finish my community service soon and hopefully pay my own court costs, after that it's onward and upward. Well no, not after, continuing through that it's onward an upward. I'm like a train, slow to start and get up to speed but near unstoppable once it does. The difference between my symbolic train and a real one is that no stray pebble or wandering cow can derail me, my path is set, I'm the only one on the tracks and now that I'm moving, I'm not stopping until I reach my destination. I've accumulated a lot of things. Things that I like. Some self-made, some bought, and while in my more spiritual and Zen days it was easy to detach myself from them, in my self-actualized I-am-only-human-not-Jesus-or-Buddha-or-Satan, but-I-am-Josh-Vish days it's not so easy. I want what I want, and I can be extremely stubborn when in that mode. Stubborn is only biased as such when it leads someone to ruin, when it leads to success we instead say Driven or Motivated. Self-Assured. These are better terms for where I am right now.
What I'm saying is: if I have to get rid of my desk, my chest of drawers and my shelving, I will, but I really really really really really don't want to. I like them and I want them. The items inside them can be packed and eventually put into replacement chests, desks or on shelves, but as it stands I want the ones I have. I am prepared to make necessary sacrifices, but I'd rather not.
Hopefully in a few years I'll re-read this from a lightning-fast, top-of-the-line, state-of-the-art computer set atop a gorgeous desk, sat in a comfortable and supportive high-backed King's Throne style Executive office chair, in my office, in my house, that I had built, to my specifications, from the ground up, and I'll be thinking "How silly that I wanted to hold onto those old things. And yet how admirable was my determination."
I know it seems bratty (because it is) but after 7 months of little more responsibility than a teenager not yet of driving age, one tends to grow spoiled. Getting used to watching movies, playing videogames, surfing the web and working out whenever I wanted has made my recent productivity feel laborious by comparison. My higher thinking knows I'm doing the right thing, and has me vowing to stay on track (which I will) but my lower human self needs a break.
Yesterday was Sunday and supposed to be my Day Of Rest. Of all the dogma and rules I've assimilated from organized religion over the years, there is but one hard and steadfast rule I ascribe to: there is to be no work done on Sunday. Sunday is the Day Of Rest. Early in my foray into the workforce, unavailability on Sundays was built into my rider. Filled out on every application. And I was generally a better worker because of it. I postulate that as long as you know you have one day of the week on which there are no responsibilities or obligations, during the rest of the week you will much more easily be able to push yourself. If your jogging in the desert, hoping to find water or civilization, you might wanna slow your pace, lest you never come upon it. Without the foreknowledge of its existence you must act carefully. But if said desert was equipped with an oasis every 2 miles or so, and you knew this, well running through it might become a game. You might even push yourself to see how fast you can clear the desert gaps in between each rest stop. The days of the week are no different in my mind.
Yesterday didn't go as planned (few things ever do). And as such my need to rest is spilling into Monday. It was your typical case of being so busy during the week with work (and community service in my case) that the weekends are the only time you actually have to get household chores done. Laundry, dishes, cleaning, etc. And again, in my case, packing. It kinda sucks when you've been pushing yourself for 6 days and then on your 7th you still have work to do, albeit located at your home instead of the office. I didn't get nearly as much packing done as I wanted to. Indeed, other than boxing up a few video game systems my only real accomplishments yesterday were bringing up boxes from the basement into my bedroom and clearing out a single draw of a beater chest I keep in the basement. Abysmal.
In addition to being swamped with things that simply need done I was left with a mental burden as well. One that was the main cause of my calling in sick today. After a few phone calls with friends and family and a lengthy one with my Mom it was decided that I should see if my grandfather would be willing to house some of my stuff temporarily. After going through a list of other family members my Mother arrived on him with glee and the explanation of "Well since your grandmother passed away and no one else other than your Uncle lives with him, he has that whole big house to himself. Plenty of room. Give him a call." After hearing that, I did a dangerous thing: I built up hope and expectations. My Grandpa is somewhere in the realm of 80 and lives in a pretty large house. This seemed a surefire bet. Something to bank on. Well after a short phone call with him that was shot down. Much to my chagrin. A few calls to random other family members tried to stop the bleeding but the damage was done. The blow had been dealt. My peace had been robbed.
I am not getting down on myself or saying that I'm giving up, I am just saying that I need a breather. Especially because this time around I know where my oasis lies and I have miles and miles of desert to trek before reaching it. Yes I am dealing with some hardships now but in actuality things are only going to get harder. And soon. I have to be out of this place in exactly a week to the day. Other than having a friend offer to let me crash on his couch I have no clue as to where the lion-share of my possessions are to go. Obviously when with him I'll be bringing the bare essentials, clothes, toiletries, etc. But a good many of my accumulations are still unaccounted for.
Again, I'm not losing sight of my goal or my path, I'm merely taking a moment to compose myself on a nearby bench. That bench in this case being this blog. I've been talking to a few professionally trained therapists lately, simply by chance, and in addition to being busy, my gushing to them seems to have sapped my need/desire to gush on here. They are simply friends and not being paid or actively striving to counsel me (nor I to them) but we inevitably end up doing so anyway. It's human nature. Background in psychology or not, it is simply how friends interact. We help each other through things. Before the field existed many of us got our therapy in (my opinion) a much more natural way. From friends and relatives. Closed loved ones. Not paid detached third parties. I'm not knocking the profession or devaluing its practices or practitioners (or patients), I am merely stating that it is a recent development in human history.
In much the way my fictional brothers, the pair Elric, have tried to cheat the system, I too am looking to have my cake and eat it too. I mean what's the point of having cake you can't eat? And how exactly does one eat cake that one does not have? That phrase has NEVER made sense to me.
"To obtain, something of equal value must be lost."
"Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is Alchemy's First Law Of Equivalent Exchange." - Alphonse Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist)
Is this always this case? Is this the only way to gain? It would seem so. Alchemy and the symbolism of Alchemy seems to pop out in most aspects of my life. With cooking, the ingredients are sacrificed to make a complete dish. With bodybuilding/fitness, water, money, food, time, and energy are sacrificed to create muscle mass and performance. It's all there. It would seem to be an immutable law. It goes hand in hand with the concept that there is no such thing as a free lunch.
My Dad is a hardworking man. As most fathers are. I cannot even begin to imagine the sacrifices (both physical and mental) that man has given for the benefit of his family. For the benefit of me. For as long as I can remember my dad has been on the road. His presence at home was very rare and sometimes disruptive. Without getting into too many details I will outline a telling analogy. Much like me (like father like son) my dad is a very clean and organized man, and as such he would often clean during the time he was actually "stationed" at home. I say stationed because now that I think about it, it was similar to military leave. He is a Health & Safety Inspector and has been one for years. His duties (along with paperwork) mainly consist of supervising others in hazardous environments. Dealing with nuclear waste, etc. He came to this job at entry level, and being the man that he is quickly moved up the ranks. Unfortunately, many who hold his same position are trained. Have been to school. Have a piece of paper that says they know what they do. My Pops has no such paper. He only has his grit and his experience. Due to this he has largely been dicked around by the system for as long as I can remember. He'd spend 6 months away in Guam and then come home for 6 months. As a kid, 6 months is a very long time. Certainly long enough to make the man who contributed to giving you life feel like a stranger. My sister and I (my youngest sister had yet to be born) grew accustomed to our Mother's ways and (despite being a positively wonderful man, one of the best human beings I've ever known) when my Dad was home it kinda through things out of whack. Even for my Mum. Back to the cleaning thing actually, I can remember more than one phone call from my Mom to him where she grilled him about where he had put certain items during his stay. He was always putting things away in high or hard-to-reach places. At least high and hard-to-reach for women and children. For him it was simply organization and efficient use of space. He'd go to Ohio for 3 weeks and then be home for 2 days, New York for a month and a half home for 2 weeks. He travelled all around the country, and at times around the world. He had to go where the work took him. Like I said, I can't even begin to fathom how taxing that must have been for that poor man. (Or my mother.) 80 hour work weeks, sending the greater portion of his paychecks home to his wife and children, while he slept in hotels and lived on his per diem. The bare minimum. A superhero for sure.
Well about 2 years ago now (maybe longer or more recent, but I'll say 2 for the sake of argument) he got an offer for a permanent job in New Mexico. The job itself was a dream job. For him and my mother. Finally, this man who had been on the road for 15+ years simply to keep food in our mouths and clothes on our back was getting his due. And my mother, who after giving birth to a miraculous third child (one the doctor's say she should not have been able to have and hence earning my baby sis the nickname "miracle child" which was sometimes used derisively by my other sister and myself) had to also get and secure a job to contribute to raising us was also finally getting a break. Samantha is 5 years younger than Taylor and 7 years younger than me. Quite a gap for siblings and quite a gap for parents. At just the point where money was being shelled out for kids now aware of fashion and clothes and interested in and performing extra curricular sports and activities and such they now had to provide for a new born.
Honestly I don't know how they did it. Raising a baby is one thing. But doing it while also maintaing two elementary age children is a feat nothing short of a superhero status. My mother too, a superhero. Both of my parents, a duo of superheroes. The disparity only continued through the years. High-school age kids needing car insurance and help with new cars and rides to work, with an elementary age child attending choir practice and concert recitals. Just thinking about it makes my head spin.
My parents are simply amazing people and I could devote more than a few entries solely to them (and probably will) but I gave all this background to put a certain scenario into context.
When my Dad was offered this job that was well-paying enough that my mother would not have to work, it was again in New Mexico. That meant getting rid of possessions that couldn't make the trip and saying good-bye to most of the family that is settled here in Western PA.
I was well into my twenties at the time and for the most part independent, so this did not affect me as much as it did them. I had a job, a license, a car and soon my own place. I also had a girlfriend that I still consider to have been the love of my life. In addition to her there was my best friend Kevin and a slew of other people keeping me here. It was decided that I would stay. Despite my ability to remain behind with my other younger sister, who also stayed, I still felt for the sacrifices my parents were going to have to make. More so for my Mom than for my Dad. For my Dad this was a well deserved dream come true. He'd finally be able to go to work during the day and return to his wife and kids (well, kid) at night. Any one who knows him knows he's wanted this forever and moreover knows he's deserved it just as long. It was high time it happened. But for my Mom, the transition wasn't so easy. She had settled down. We lived on the street she grew up on, with one of her sisters occupying the actual house where she grew up. All her brothers and sisters (6 total including her) were within driving distance. Many within 5 minutes or less. She comes from a very tight-knit family and maintaining that closeness was/is crucial to her. Despite tapering off a bit after both of her parents passed away, her side of the family still regularly gathers for holidays, birthdays, weddings and the like. Something I think they all need. Including her. Moving to New Mexico for her would mean forfeiting all but one or two of these events. She could only attend when finances and my father's schedule would allow them to fly back out.
It has since struck a nice balance with her brothers and sisters (all well established adults) occasionally flying out to spend a week or so with her and my dad and sister, sometimes in tandem. Even so, the strain must still be enormous.
At the time when this was a bridge yet to be crossed, I instinctively knew I too would one day be crossing it.
My Dad from having lived on the road for so long and perhaps simply from being male is a much more mobile human being than my Mother. He is quite used to living on the bare minimum and making do with what he has. Only buying or acquiring what he needs as the need arises. My Mother on the other hand is a wonderful Mother Hen. She created an amazingly comfortable nest for herself and us there on Eastern Avenue. Filled with all the amenities you'd expect of a typical North American White Upper/Middle-Class family to have. Dog, cat, a car per licensed driver. Big screen TV, TV in each of the kid's bedrooms, a well-stocked kitchen (both in instrument and ingredient) which she frequently utilized to more than adequately provide for our needs and occasionally to entertain guests. She was established. Settled. In her element. Tasteful knick-knacks every where, drapes matching carpets matching couches and so on. And seasonal sets of each. I always teased her with "When the pilgrim and turkey salt n pepper shakers get put away, the snowman and reindeer ones are coming out." She had a seasonally themed item for most everything in the house and regularly rotated between them as the seasons passed.
All of this and her family would need to be left behind. She was moving into unfamiliar territory.
While I did sympathize with her greatly at the time I was maybe not as apt or able to show it. I was even a bit cold. Not because of anything like being an unfeeling psychotic, but because it simply did not apply to me. My mind could recognize the gravity of the situation and yet it did not affect me. Literally and emotionally. I have an Uncle that is particularly handy and oft called upon to supervise or undertake repairs to homes or cars within the family (I think everyone has an Uncle like that) and a few times I've been privileged (Or burdened depending on my age and outlook at the time) to work with him. He is a old-world man with old-world values but an intense sense of humor. That's a pretty accurate descriptor for most of my Mother's siblings and her side of the family in general, but particularly for him. Being the oldest of the 6 he is the quintessence of that dynamic. A cigarette-smoking, beer-swilling (in the past), country-music-listenin', handyman Zen Master. Again, I could devote an entire website to the gems I've heard fall out of this man's mouth. One of which being "Ain't my house." Said jovially but still meant in that truth said in jest sort of way. When something would go wrong with a particular project, say a piece of molding falling off a bannister, or a crack accidentally forming in a wall, he'd let out his hearty yet raspy, wheezy and guttural smoker's laugh and follow it with a "Hey, ain't my house!" More like 'hahs' this being Pittsburgh and all. He never meant it mean and almost always went on to repair the damage himself or to leave proper instructions for us to do so, but the care-free zen-like attitude has always stuck with me. At the end of the day, no, it was not his house. This was largely how I dealt with my parents shuffling thousands of miles off to the other side of the country and leaving prized possessions and family members behind.
"Ain't my problem." Again, I was not entirely unsympathetic nor am I a heartless individual, but the fact of the matter remained, it simply was not my problem. I had a car, a girl, a place, a job, a life. Here in PA. No sacrifices needed to be made. But even then I had a sense that eventually I would be pulled out there. In the back of my mind I knew that one day the sacrifices that they made, I too would have to endure. And here we are.
The West has always held a pull on me. I've lived there before and I continue to gravitate toward it. Well before my parents headed that way. Yes I am Tertium Quid and a mix of both East Coast and West Coast mentalities, but spending most of my adult life on this coast has left me enamored with the other. The grass is always greener. Much like I identify with the Japanese more than Americans, so to do I defer to the Left Coast. In much the same way I hold the French lifestyle in high regard above America's I also value the Californian mindset over Pennsylvania's. I am an East Coast, Pennsylvania Pittsburgh boy through and through and this part of the world will always feel like home to me, or at least serve as a base of operations but like many other men before me the cry of "Go West, young man! Your future is untold! You can find your dreams on the California Coast!" rings powerfully through my head and acts like a magnet to draw me in that direction.
There are several geographical (and cultural) locations to which I am drawn, in no order: The UK, France, Japan, California, Oregon, Pennsylvania and Australia. And I believe that the path to stepping on the soil of each of these lies in first heading West. Within the next five years I plan on being the next James Cameron or Steven Spielberg. More accurately the one and only Josh Vish. Yes I aspire to be rich and famous but those are only tertiary goals to my main causes. Making film, being a father and benefitting the world. As long as I get to do those last three I don't care whether or not the wealth and fame come. I simply desire them to facilitate my goals. And yes, maybe a bit out of ego. I want to make movies like Avatar, Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, The Matrix, Fight Club, Into The Wild. Entertaining pieces of fiction that also serve as lessons to those willing to learn them. And I want to be the best father I can be. I also GREATLY desire to spend time in Japan, observing its landscapes and scenery, culture and people. That last goal is the most "pointless" or "self-indulgent" Ultimate Goal I have. I have been in love with Japan for quite some time now and I really want to see it up close.
As it stands now I believe that in order to achieve those things I must head West. I spoke about it in my last entry, but it's worth reiterating. I need to complete my legal obligations here, and then move forward (meaning West) with my life. I'm not getting any younger and I've already wasted a good bit of time being "lost", so it's high time I make my dreams a reality. Next to fulfilling the stipulations of my being legally able to leave the state I also need to further streamline my person. Mentally and materially. I have made great strides in both, incredible strides really (I shall have a hell of a "True Hollywood Story" or "VH1's Driven" if they still make either of those) but I still have more to make.
"The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."
- Frost
Robert really put it best (and quite poetically), but that's where I am. I am battle weary and exhausted, ready to quit. And without a goal I would've likely succumbed to weakness and old ways by now. As it is, all actions I undertake, including calling off my community service today and typing this blog are with my Ultimate Goals in mind. To me this is progress. Forward momentum. I needed this. I didn't get it yesterday, so I'm taking it today. Writing centers me. It gives me peace. It helps me regain myself.
I already know this entry is coming to a close and with the end in sight I feel rejuvenated. Invigorated with purpose. Typing and re-reading this serves as a very long mantra, a re-realization of my goals. I am motivating myself.
I said I always knew I'd eventually deal with the dilemmas my parents had to deal with when they headed out West, and they are drawing near. I know I'll finish my community service soon and hopefully pay my own court costs, after that it's onward and upward. Well no, not after, continuing through that it's onward an upward. I'm like a train, slow to start and get up to speed but near unstoppable once it does. The difference between my symbolic train and a real one is that no stray pebble or wandering cow can derail me, my path is set, I'm the only one on the tracks and now that I'm moving, I'm not stopping until I reach my destination. I've accumulated a lot of things. Things that I like. Some self-made, some bought, and while in my more spiritual and Zen days it was easy to detach myself from them, in my self-actualized I-am-only-human-not-Jesus-or-Buddha-or-Satan, but-I-am-Josh-Vish days it's not so easy. I want what I want, and I can be extremely stubborn when in that mode. Stubborn is only biased as such when it leads someone to ruin, when it leads to success we instead say Driven or Motivated. Self-Assured. These are better terms for where I am right now.
What I'm saying is: if I have to get rid of my desk, my chest of drawers and my shelving, I will, but I really really really really really don't want to. I like them and I want them. The items inside them can be packed and eventually put into replacement chests, desks or on shelves, but as it stands I want the ones I have. I am prepared to make necessary sacrifices, but I'd rather not.
Hopefully in a few years I'll re-read this from a lightning-fast, top-of-the-line, state-of-the-art computer set atop a gorgeous desk, sat in a comfortable and supportive high-backed King's Throne style Executive office chair, in my office, in my house, that I had built, to my specifications, from the ground up, and I'll be thinking "How silly that I wanted to hold onto those old things. And yet how admirable was my determination."
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
X & Y
X and Y.
X vs. Y
Two symbols typically used to represent something unspecified but understood not to be something else, usually used in mathematics. Our culture uses them to represent two other opposing forces as well. Male and Female. An apt representation, I'd say. At first glance, what jumps out at you about these two letters? If you didn't know which represented which, how would you assign genders to these letters? To me, it's immediately obvious. X is female and Y is male.
I mean just look at them.
X (open legs) Welcoming you in, splitting two decisions down the middle and alleging with neither.
Y (phallic) Plunging forward. Ahead. Taking two scenarios and whittling away one to pursue the other.
[Stereotypically] How we do define women? Emotional, unreasonable, indecisive. Every woman you have ever known has dragged you through a department store unable to choose between this and that. Most women I know do the same thing romantically. They date a man, while pursuing other interests and then leap-frog from one to the other until they find the best match. The grass is always greener.
Men, on the other hand? How do we "shop"? Normally a male knows what he wants before he even begins making moves toward it. We go to the store with one item in mind, acquire it (or a pre-calculated back-up if it is unavailable) and roll. Quick, clean, precise.
Now granted I know that not ALL women fit into the category outlined above and nor do ALL men fit the criteria listed either, but for the sake of argument allow me to cleanly split the two to identify their opposing forces.
This all goes back to my realization that every occupation a person can hold can be distilled down to one thing: decision-making. We pay people to make our decisions for us. Personal Trainers, Chefs, Film Directors, etc. When we give them our money, we are in essence saying, "Here, these options overwhelm me, make my choice for me."
So now, unfortunately with the seemingly negative connotation of suggesting that women or the female half is "wrong" or "evil", I proffer the following: X = the inability to choose and the subsequent downfall of "the system", while Y = the ability to weigh two options, decide on one and stay the course. Y, commitment. X, undecided.
Embark on a thought experiment with me, if you will. Picture an x as it is and then continue the legs for as long as you can. They will never cross paths, and as the distance between them grows, their overall length dwindles. Taken another way, if one were to fractal with the shape of an x, eventually everything would start running into each other and the whole thing would come crashing down.
Y, has one direction. Its line continued forward goes on for infinity. Fractal it, and you have a "tree". Growth. Sustainable growth than can be traced back to a single root.
I used to be known for my decisiveness. Next to my confidence it was one of my most prominent character traits. It defined who I was. While to the outside, that may have still seemed the case, to a select few and myself it was apparent that a few years back I became more X than Y.
Spoiled for choice.
I can trace this time back to when everything in my life started to go wrong. When I lost who I was and what I was doing and what I wanted to do with my life.
Recently I have reclaimed my Y. Self-actualized my Y chromosome.
When LOST first debuted, I identified the most with Jack. Despite holding Locke in high regard. While I see my overall character as more akin to Locke than Jack, I more relate to the circumstances Jack was thrown into when the plane first hit the island. The people chose him as a leader and then ridiculed his decisions. Choosing a leader is a scapegoat. A win/win. If he fucks up, you disagree with him, if he does well, you assert that you were integral in choosing him. I have dealt with this on some scale or another for my entire life.
Take the simple act of going out to eat. You've got four people in a car all going "I dunno, where do you wanna go?" Until someone picks (typically the most decisive member available) a person to choose. That person usually being me it goes something like this,
Person A
"Where do you wanna go?"
Person B
"I dunno, where do you wanna go?"
Person C
*shrugs*
Person A
"Let's ask Josh. Make him choose. Josh, where should we go?"
Josh
"We should go to X."
Person B
"I just went to X, how about Y?"
Person C
"Y is gross and X is lame, why not Z?"
Person A
"Z? haven't been to Z in a while..."
A, B and C in unison:
"Z it is!"
Josh
"WTF?!"
Why even bother asking me if you're just going to turn down my decision?! Because they needed a force to oppose. They couldn't/can't think of anything on their own, so they look to me to draw a line in the sand and then they use that merely as a reference point. To make choices relative to. Not the actual choice.
This conflict can happen inside one's head, and often does. Mine for sure.
I'm done with worrying about what I will miss out on, because doing that isn't getting me anything anyway. If someone puts a serving of pizza and a serving of chinese before you and tells you that you can only have one, you have to make a choice. It's one or the other. Not both. Can't make a choice? Then you go hungry. Sure I may be missing out on chinese, but fuck me running this pizza is delicious...
Have you ever noticed how easy it is to counsel someone's life from the outside? The whole time you are thinking, "Man, I'm like Dr. Phil, I should have my own show...." But your life is a wreck. Why is that? Why is it easier to make others decisions for them versus making your own for yourself? Because when it's for an outsider, you exonerate them of responsibility. They get all of the glory with no possible defeat. Disagree with your decision, and go their own route? They become independent, self-motivated. "I didn't need his stupid advice." *applause* Listen to what you have to say and take it to heart? "I'm so glad I made the decision to go to him in the first place." "Good for you for going, I'm proud." It's safe. Guaranteed.
In your own head however, it's a solo sport. A one man team. You either get all the glory or receive all the defeat. You succeed? You move forward. You revel in your self-reliance. You fuck up? You have no one to blame but yourself.
This used to be a negative for me, but then I realized that it wasn't always that way. I chose the sports reference purposefully. As a kid I hated team sports specifically for those reasons. You win? You do well? It was the team that did well. They chose you. They trained you. They passed you the ball before you put it in the goal. Shared glory. Not my thing. But if you botch that game-winning shot? The loss is all yours. "Thanks, Josh." "Way to go, retard." Win as a team, lose as an individual.
That's what drew me to bodybuilding and martial arts and strongman. Solo. No one to defer glory or defeat to. You shoulder it all yourself. And you know what? I'd rather have it that way. You do you, Umma do me.
People chastise men like James Cameron for being an asshole. But then they thankfully sit down and watch his movies as they makes millions. Do you think Jim is sitting at home losing sleep over some PA's feelings he hurt? Fuck no, he's swimming in his millions and making Avatar 2. He's a decision-maker. A man. Negative portrayals paint him as "self-important" or "egotistical". Fuck that. He is driven and he knows what he wants. If he didn't, his movies would never get made and they wouldn't have made the absurd amount of money that they have. Success requires a certain amount of ego. I used to instinctively understand this.
It's time to get back to my roots.
I've been SUPER-depressed lately, the worst I've ever been. I've almost made it of the hole I'm in but there is still a long way to go. My life is on the edge. Thin ice. Any moment now it could all come crashing down. I mean real shit too. Not teenage emo drama bullshit, I mean like homelessness, possible legal repercussions. REAL SHIT.
On one hand I've never been more focused and driven in my entire life. I've been writing and I'm making real tangible moves toward getting my life back, but on the other I am so ready to throw in the towel. After being told I'd received "time served" meaning that my time spent in jail and on house arrest exonerated me from future fines or probation I somehow apparently owe $500+ in court costs. Money I don't even begin to MAYBE have. To compound that glorious news I have to be out of my current place by the 22nd. Less than two weeks. And I have positively nothing lined up.
X vs. Y
Or,
Two road diverge in a yellow wood...
I've been in PA on my own (more or less) for a few years now, and before I lost my way, the goal was to eventually be a rich and famous filmmaker. An enterprise. A tour-de-force. A household name. A VERB. Writer/Director/Editor/Actor. And more. Simultaneous to those titles I would be a Comedian and Martial Artist and most importantly Father. Josh Vish. Those goals seem so far away now... But at least I've re-realized them. I used to live in LA for obvious reasons and had entertained moving back until the writing bug bit me.
I'm getting older and my looks are fading, I can't (and no longer) expect to be a break-out movie star at 25. I'm not getting down on myself or saying it's an impossibility, I'm just saying that it doesn't look likely. It's a shallow business and appearance matters. What I can do is: write and direct movies and put myself in them. And largely that's what I intend to do. Not because of any ego or thinking that I "deserve to be seen" but because I like acting. It's fun for me, I enjoy the process. And that'll be one less paycheck I have to sign. ;)
So I stayed in Pittsburgh, intent to focus on my writing. But like any good writer, I slacked off. Got distracted. Invested in too many projects at once. And, eventually, lost my way. Along with my ultimate goal. I forgot why I wanted to do such things with my life. I couldn't answer why live life at all. (Honestly something I sill struggle with, but the short answer is: because I want to.) In my defense I've dealt with more bullshit in the past 3 years than most human beings, Americans deal with in their entire lives. Loss of license, job, shelter, girlfriend, spending time in jail and on house arrest. I've had a lot dividing my time away from writing and my long-term goals. And rightfully so. I need to focus on supporting myself in a real-world environment before I can devote myself to my craft again.
And I am trying.
God it feels good to say that.
I am trying.
I have a job interview today and plan to resume my community service tomorrow. Awesome. However, I still don't know where I am going to be living in 2 weeks, and that's where all this X and Y symbolism comes into play. Decisions need to be made. Courses need to be set. Roads need to be paved.
My options (whether realistic or not) are as follows (and neatly divided into categories of Fight vs. Flight):
Flight:
Leave Pittsburgh and or PA in general. Either to New Mexico (where my parents are), Japan (where my heart is) or France (where my lifestyle is). Perhaps even the UK (where a good portion of my mind resides)
Fight:
Find another place in Cory, secure the job I'm interviewing for today (or another one), finish my community service and then move to one of the places listed above.
Flight really isn't an option. Legally I am backed into a corner. The Man (think the law personified as Jason Voorhees, or Michael Myers) is looming over me, and while I could probably squeeze under his legs and run into the woods, he'd eventually get me. He always does. He will inevitably catch up to whomever he is chasing. So my only real option is fight. Here. Now. And with what I have. Sure he is big and carrying a weapon, but creatures do amazing thing when they are forced to. I'm a somewhat larger fellow myself, and mildly aware of some martial arts... perhaps I will wait for him to strike, block the blow, hip-toss him and then dismember him with his own weapon. Or my bare-hands if needed. In non-symbolic terms that translates to:
I can't leave here (here being the Pittsburgh area) until I have paid of the inexplicable $500 I owe and completed the remaining 152 hours of community service I still am court-ordered to do. Seemingly simple tasks, but being licenseless and about to be homeless complicates matters. Greatly.
My ideal itinerary would look like this:
I stay here until I have completed the above requirements and regained my license. And ideally that whole time I'd simultaneously be getting back in shape at the gym job I hopefully secure today. After that I would bounce. I get my license back in August and feel I owe Pittsburgh one last chance at providing me with a nice summer. Instead of one in a cast, or jail. After that, with my ultimate goal of becoming a rich and famous filmmaker father I'd very likely head out west. Probably first to New Mexico. I've researched it a fair bit and in addition to reuniting with my parents (which I love and miss very much) I'd be afforded a great many deal of opportunities. The greatest of which being free school. My parents have offered to put me through school. Wow. Talk about second chances. When you're 19 (and cocky, not just for that age but as an inherent character trait) and interested in creative careers, school seems fruitless. [19 year old Josh]: "The only reason I'd ever go to school for movies, is to network. Other than that, it's pointless. I don't want them ruining my creativity with their retarded rules and guidelines."
While a good portion of me still feels that way, the older and wiser part knows better. School will only destroy my creativity or put it in a box if I let it. And then of course there's that glorious networking, being surrounded by individuals who share my passion. Sure to be inspiring. It always was in the gym. And other people's workouts never seemed to affect my own, or my progress. So why should their schoolwork affect mine? It shan't and won't. Unless I let it. There are people in the world right now who would very likely kill to be in my shoes. Now and meaning with this opportunity. Free school? Only a retard would turn it down. Besides, in addition to cinema, I'd be able to pursue other avenues of my interest as well. Like Japan. Or psychology. Or botany. With school the options are endless. So I'd very much like to go, majoring in Cinema, while learning the Japanese language and as much about their culture and history in a school environment as I can. After that, I become a global force in media and move to Japan. Not necessarily in that order. Shortly after traveling the globe and seeing my share of sights and interacting with my share of cultures and people I'll decide on a place to live and raise a family. All while comfortably still dominating the movie world. That is the goal that is going to lay my path out for me.
This job I'm going to be interviewing for today is by no means a dream job, but on many levels it is. It is near perfect for where I am in my life right now. And considering my goals. Fitness used to be HUGE part of my life and I'm trying to make it that way again. While I no longer want to personally train people, I still do want to be in peak physical condition. I also plan on owning a gym (or 37) "when I grow up". Just one part of the Vish Empire I plan to create after the millions from my films start rolling in. Not only do I miss being in a gym simply for the effect it has on my body, but also for the one it has on my mind. I miss the symbolism of working out just as much (if not more) than the actual physical process. That's another thing, I don't just enjoy the results, I enjoy the process. Being built is a side-effect of doing something I enjoy, something that makes me feel good. Filmmaking should likely end up being the same way. I miss having physical tangible results day in day out mirroring the effort I put in. Learning to push myself in the gym spilled out into the real world. Goals in life are just the same as goals in the weight room. You define one and then work toward it. And progressive-resistance training is a great symbol for how to achieve in general. You take where you are now, measure it against where you want to be and then take systematic steps toward it. I miss that. I miss watching the numbers increase on the tape measurer, the scale and in my books. My books being where I logged how much I lifted and how many times. There's few feelings in life as great as going all out one day, recording the result and then coming back the next week and pushing beyond it. You feel invincible. Unstoppable. I used to feel that way about everything, not just working out. It's time to regain that. The position I've applied for and am interviewing today is that of Front Desk. Face-Man. The Face of YMCA. I can do that. I can more than do that. I'm a born and bred social creature. Very easy to approach. Very welcoming, very familiar. In most any walk of life you can imagine, people gravitate toward me. Especially in a gym environment. I've had a very similar job before and despite the douchebag management it was one of my favorite jobs I've ever held. A fact I only realized in retrospect, unfortunately. Hindsight being 20/20 and all that. My main duty would be interacting with people. Perfect. In addition to that I'd be afforded a free membership. Something I have been dying for even since before I broke my wrist two years back. The portion of their set-up that I would actually utilize is meager, but it would get the job done. The basics are all there. And besides it's best not to go too crazy right out the gate. After about 5 years of no longer maintaining a regular work-out routine, and this past year of living the absolute definition of a sedentary lifestyle, easing back into the water will likely be for the best.
That's a lot of birds being murdered with not a lot of stones being thrown. Money to support myself. Check. Money to put toward my fines (or court costs or whatever the fuck they are). Check. Gym membership to get my body, mind and soul back in solid health. Check. The only downsides are that it's part-time and downtown. Quite a commute for one without a car. Heck it'd be one even if I did have a car. But I'm not gonna let that stop me. A part time job is better than nothing right now and it being downtown affords me an excuse to walk (lending to my fitness again) and see the sights of the city. And to be exposed to its people. Here's hoping I get it. :D After a few chores around the house here and getting myself ready (hygienically as well as mentally) I'll take the bus down and put my best foot forward. And even if I don't get it, at least I can say I did that.
This Y is forging ahead.
X vs. Y
Two symbols typically used to represent something unspecified but understood not to be something else, usually used in mathematics. Our culture uses them to represent two other opposing forces as well. Male and Female. An apt representation, I'd say. At first glance, what jumps out at you about these two letters? If you didn't know which represented which, how would you assign genders to these letters? To me, it's immediately obvious. X is female and Y is male.
I mean just look at them.
X (open legs) Welcoming you in, splitting two decisions down the middle and alleging with neither.
Y (phallic) Plunging forward. Ahead. Taking two scenarios and whittling away one to pursue the other.
[Stereotypically] How we do define women? Emotional, unreasonable, indecisive. Every woman you have ever known has dragged you through a department store unable to choose between this and that. Most women I know do the same thing romantically. They date a man, while pursuing other interests and then leap-frog from one to the other until they find the best match. The grass is always greener.
Men, on the other hand? How do we "shop"? Normally a male knows what he wants before he even begins making moves toward it. We go to the store with one item in mind, acquire it (or a pre-calculated back-up if it is unavailable) and roll. Quick, clean, precise.
Now granted I know that not ALL women fit into the category outlined above and nor do ALL men fit the criteria listed either, but for the sake of argument allow me to cleanly split the two to identify their opposing forces.
This all goes back to my realization that every occupation a person can hold can be distilled down to one thing: decision-making. We pay people to make our decisions for us. Personal Trainers, Chefs, Film Directors, etc. When we give them our money, we are in essence saying, "Here, these options overwhelm me, make my choice for me."
So now, unfortunately with the seemingly negative connotation of suggesting that women or the female half is "wrong" or "evil", I proffer the following: X = the inability to choose and the subsequent downfall of "the system", while Y = the ability to weigh two options, decide on one and stay the course. Y, commitment. X, undecided.
Embark on a thought experiment with me, if you will. Picture an x as it is and then continue the legs for as long as you can. They will never cross paths, and as the distance between them grows, their overall length dwindles. Taken another way, if one were to fractal with the shape of an x, eventually everything would start running into each other and the whole thing would come crashing down.
Y, has one direction. Its line continued forward goes on for infinity. Fractal it, and you have a "tree". Growth. Sustainable growth than can be traced back to a single root.
I used to be known for my decisiveness. Next to my confidence it was one of my most prominent character traits. It defined who I was. While to the outside, that may have still seemed the case, to a select few and myself it was apparent that a few years back I became more X than Y.
Spoiled for choice.
I can trace this time back to when everything in my life started to go wrong. When I lost who I was and what I was doing and what I wanted to do with my life.
Recently I have reclaimed my Y. Self-actualized my Y chromosome.
When LOST first debuted, I identified the most with Jack. Despite holding Locke in high regard. While I see my overall character as more akin to Locke than Jack, I more relate to the circumstances Jack was thrown into when the plane first hit the island. The people chose him as a leader and then ridiculed his decisions. Choosing a leader is a scapegoat. A win/win. If he fucks up, you disagree with him, if he does well, you assert that you were integral in choosing him. I have dealt with this on some scale or another for my entire life.
Take the simple act of going out to eat. You've got four people in a car all going "I dunno, where do you wanna go?" Until someone picks (typically the most decisive member available) a person to choose. That person usually being me it goes something like this,
Person A
"Where do you wanna go?"
Person B
"I dunno, where do you wanna go?"
Person C
*shrugs*
Person A
"Let's ask Josh. Make him choose. Josh, where should we go?"
Josh
"We should go to X."
Person B
"I just went to X, how about Y?"
Person C
"Y is gross and X is lame, why not Z?"
Person A
"Z? haven't been to Z in a while..."
A, B and C in unison:
"Z it is!"
Josh
"WTF?!"
Why even bother asking me if you're just going to turn down my decision?! Because they needed a force to oppose. They couldn't/can't think of anything on their own, so they look to me to draw a line in the sand and then they use that merely as a reference point. To make choices relative to. Not the actual choice.
This conflict can happen inside one's head, and often does. Mine for sure.
I'm done with worrying about what I will miss out on, because doing that isn't getting me anything anyway. If someone puts a serving of pizza and a serving of chinese before you and tells you that you can only have one, you have to make a choice. It's one or the other. Not both. Can't make a choice? Then you go hungry. Sure I may be missing out on chinese, but fuck me running this pizza is delicious...
Have you ever noticed how easy it is to counsel someone's life from the outside? The whole time you are thinking, "Man, I'm like Dr. Phil, I should have my own show...." But your life is a wreck. Why is that? Why is it easier to make others decisions for them versus making your own for yourself? Because when it's for an outsider, you exonerate them of responsibility. They get all of the glory with no possible defeat. Disagree with your decision, and go their own route? They become independent, self-motivated. "I didn't need his stupid advice." *applause* Listen to what you have to say and take it to heart? "I'm so glad I made the decision to go to him in the first place." "Good for you for going, I'm proud." It's safe. Guaranteed.
In your own head however, it's a solo sport. A one man team. You either get all the glory or receive all the defeat. You succeed? You move forward. You revel in your self-reliance. You fuck up? You have no one to blame but yourself.
This used to be a negative for me, but then I realized that it wasn't always that way. I chose the sports reference purposefully. As a kid I hated team sports specifically for those reasons. You win? You do well? It was the team that did well. They chose you. They trained you. They passed you the ball before you put it in the goal. Shared glory. Not my thing. But if you botch that game-winning shot? The loss is all yours. "Thanks, Josh." "Way to go, retard." Win as a team, lose as an individual.
That's what drew me to bodybuilding and martial arts and strongman. Solo. No one to defer glory or defeat to. You shoulder it all yourself. And you know what? I'd rather have it that way. You do you, Umma do me.
People chastise men like James Cameron for being an asshole. But then they thankfully sit down and watch his movies as they makes millions. Do you think Jim is sitting at home losing sleep over some PA's feelings he hurt? Fuck no, he's swimming in his millions and making Avatar 2. He's a decision-maker. A man. Negative portrayals paint him as "self-important" or "egotistical". Fuck that. He is driven and he knows what he wants. If he didn't, his movies would never get made and they wouldn't have made the absurd amount of money that they have. Success requires a certain amount of ego. I used to instinctively understand this.
It's time to get back to my roots.
I've been SUPER-depressed lately, the worst I've ever been. I've almost made it of the hole I'm in but there is still a long way to go. My life is on the edge. Thin ice. Any moment now it could all come crashing down. I mean real shit too. Not teenage emo drama bullshit, I mean like homelessness, possible legal repercussions. REAL SHIT.
On one hand I've never been more focused and driven in my entire life. I've been writing and I'm making real tangible moves toward getting my life back, but on the other I am so ready to throw in the towel. After being told I'd received "time served" meaning that my time spent in jail and on house arrest exonerated me from future fines or probation I somehow apparently owe $500+ in court costs. Money I don't even begin to MAYBE have. To compound that glorious news I have to be out of my current place by the 22nd. Less than two weeks. And I have positively nothing lined up.
X vs. Y
Or,
Two road diverge in a yellow wood...
I've been in PA on my own (more or less) for a few years now, and before I lost my way, the goal was to eventually be a rich and famous filmmaker. An enterprise. A tour-de-force. A household name. A VERB. Writer/Director/Editor/Actor. And more. Simultaneous to those titles I would be a Comedian and Martial Artist and most importantly Father. Josh Vish. Those goals seem so far away now... But at least I've re-realized them. I used to live in LA for obvious reasons and had entertained moving back until the writing bug bit me.
I'm getting older and my looks are fading, I can't (and no longer) expect to be a break-out movie star at 25. I'm not getting down on myself or saying it's an impossibility, I'm just saying that it doesn't look likely. It's a shallow business and appearance matters. What I can do is: write and direct movies and put myself in them. And largely that's what I intend to do. Not because of any ego or thinking that I "deserve to be seen" but because I like acting. It's fun for me, I enjoy the process. And that'll be one less paycheck I have to sign. ;)
So I stayed in Pittsburgh, intent to focus on my writing. But like any good writer, I slacked off. Got distracted. Invested in too many projects at once. And, eventually, lost my way. Along with my ultimate goal. I forgot why I wanted to do such things with my life. I couldn't answer why live life at all. (Honestly something I sill struggle with, but the short answer is: because I want to.) In my defense I've dealt with more bullshit in the past 3 years than most human beings, Americans deal with in their entire lives. Loss of license, job, shelter, girlfriend, spending time in jail and on house arrest. I've had a lot dividing my time away from writing and my long-term goals. And rightfully so. I need to focus on supporting myself in a real-world environment before I can devote myself to my craft again.
And I am trying.
God it feels good to say that.
I am trying.
I have a job interview today and plan to resume my community service tomorrow. Awesome. However, I still don't know where I am going to be living in 2 weeks, and that's where all this X and Y symbolism comes into play. Decisions need to be made. Courses need to be set. Roads need to be paved.
My options (whether realistic or not) are as follows (and neatly divided into categories of Fight vs. Flight):
Flight:
Leave Pittsburgh and or PA in general. Either to New Mexico (where my parents are), Japan (where my heart is) or France (where my lifestyle is). Perhaps even the UK (where a good portion of my mind resides)
Fight:
Find another place in Cory, secure the job I'm interviewing for today (or another one), finish my community service and then move to one of the places listed above.
Flight really isn't an option. Legally I am backed into a corner. The Man (think the law personified as Jason Voorhees, or Michael Myers) is looming over me, and while I could probably squeeze under his legs and run into the woods, he'd eventually get me. He always does. He will inevitably catch up to whomever he is chasing. So my only real option is fight. Here. Now. And with what I have. Sure he is big and carrying a weapon, but creatures do amazing thing when they are forced to. I'm a somewhat larger fellow myself, and mildly aware of some martial arts... perhaps I will wait for him to strike, block the blow, hip-toss him and then dismember him with his own weapon. Or my bare-hands if needed. In non-symbolic terms that translates to:
I can't leave here (here being the Pittsburgh area) until I have paid of the inexplicable $500 I owe and completed the remaining 152 hours of community service I still am court-ordered to do. Seemingly simple tasks, but being licenseless and about to be homeless complicates matters. Greatly.
My ideal itinerary would look like this:
I stay here until I have completed the above requirements and regained my license. And ideally that whole time I'd simultaneously be getting back in shape at the gym job I hopefully secure today. After that I would bounce. I get my license back in August and feel I owe Pittsburgh one last chance at providing me with a nice summer. Instead of one in a cast, or jail. After that, with my ultimate goal of becoming a rich and famous filmmaker father I'd very likely head out west. Probably first to New Mexico. I've researched it a fair bit and in addition to reuniting with my parents (which I love and miss very much) I'd be afforded a great many deal of opportunities. The greatest of which being free school. My parents have offered to put me through school. Wow. Talk about second chances. When you're 19 (and cocky, not just for that age but as an inherent character trait) and interested in creative careers, school seems fruitless. [19 year old Josh]: "The only reason I'd ever go to school for movies, is to network. Other than that, it's pointless. I don't want them ruining my creativity with their retarded rules and guidelines."
While a good portion of me still feels that way, the older and wiser part knows better. School will only destroy my creativity or put it in a box if I let it. And then of course there's that glorious networking, being surrounded by individuals who share my passion. Sure to be inspiring. It always was in the gym. And other people's workouts never seemed to affect my own, or my progress. So why should their schoolwork affect mine? It shan't and won't. Unless I let it. There are people in the world right now who would very likely kill to be in my shoes. Now and meaning with this opportunity. Free school? Only a retard would turn it down. Besides, in addition to cinema, I'd be able to pursue other avenues of my interest as well. Like Japan. Or psychology. Or botany. With school the options are endless. So I'd very much like to go, majoring in Cinema, while learning the Japanese language and as much about their culture and history in a school environment as I can. After that, I become a global force in media and move to Japan. Not necessarily in that order. Shortly after traveling the globe and seeing my share of sights and interacting with my share of cultures and people I'll decide on a place to live and raise a family. All while comfortably still dominating the movie world. That is the goal that is going to lay my path out for me.
This job I'm going to be interviewing for today is by no means a dream job, but on many levels it is. It is near perfect for where I am in my life right now. And considering my goals. Fitness used to be HUGE part of my life and I'm trying to make it that way again. While I no longer want to personally train people, I still do want to be in peak physical condition. I also plan on owning a gym (or 37) "when I grow up". Just one part of the Vish Empire I plan to create after the millions from my films start rolling in. Not only do I miss being in a gym simply for the effect it has on my body, but also for the one it has on my mind. I miss the symbolism of working out just as much (if not more) than the actual physical process. That's another thing, I don't just enjoy the results, I enjoy the process. Being built is a side-effect of doing something I enjoy, something that makes me feel good. Filmmaking should likely end up being the same way. I miss having physical tangible results day in day out mirroring the effort I put in. Learning to push myself in the gym spilled out into the real world. Goals in life are just the same as goals in the weight room. You define one and then work toward it. And progressive-resistance training is a great symbol for how to achieve in general. You take where you are now, measure it against where you want to be and then take systematic steps toward it. I miss that. I miss watching the numbers increase on the tape measurer, the scale and in my books. My books being where I logged how much I lifted and how many times. There's few feelings in life as great as going all out one day, recording the result and then coming back the next week and pushing beyond it. You feel invincible. Unstoppable. I used to feel that way about everything, not just working out. It's time to regain that. The position I've applied for and am interviewing today is that of Front Desk. Face-Man. The Face of YMCA. I can do that. I can more than do that. I'm a born and bred social creature. Very easy to approach. Very welcoming, very familiar. In most any walk of life you can imagine, people gravitate toward me. Especially in a gym environment. I've had a very similar job before and despite the douchebag management it was one of my favorite jobs I've ever held. A fact I only realized in retrospect, unfortunately. Hindsight being 20/20 and all that. My main duty would be interacting with people. Perfect. In addition to that I'd be afforded a free membership. Something I have been dying for even since before I broke my wrist two years back. The portion of their set-up that I would actually utilize is meager, but it would get the job done. The basics are all there. And besides it's best not to go too crazy right out the gate. After about 5 years of no longer maintaining a regular work-out routine, and this past year of living the absolute definition of a sedentary lifestyle, easing back into the water will likely be for the best.
That's a lot of birds being murdered with not a lot of stones being thrown. Money to support myself. Check. Money to put toward my fines (or court costs or whatever the fuck they are). Check. Gym membership to get my body, mind and soul back in solid health. Check. The only downsides are that it's part-time and downtown. Quite a commute for one without a car. Heck it'd be one even if I did have a car. But I'm not gonna let that stop me. A part time job is better than nothing right now and it being downtown affords me an excuse to walk (lending to my fitness again) and see the sights of the city. And to be exposed to its people. Here's hoping I get it. :D After a few chores around the house here and getting myself ready (hygienically as well as mentally) I'll take the bus down and put my best foot forward. And even if I don't get it, at least I can say I did that.
This Y is forging ahead.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Tuesday (Time for action.)
It's 4:15AM on Tuesday, the second of March, 2010 as I type this. Well 4:16 now, but you get the idea.
I was super-depressed last night/yesterday and about ready to hang it up.
It goes back to the whole wanting it bad enough thing. If you ACTUALLY want to do something, you'll do it. No matter the circumstances, you will find a way to do it. Aptitude at doing something was not what I lacked, it was the drive to do something. I didn't want to do anything.
The goal creates the path, not the other way around.
I'm feeling very positive, but also very nervous. I was proactive and checked some job listings and the very first one I found sounds a like a dream job, for where I am in my life right now. As such I updated my resume and am amidst plans to get a physical copy there. I know a person who works at the building where this potential job is located. Seeing as how as my main method of transportation will have to be the bus, I decided accompanying a person also reliant on the bus in order to get to this destination was a wise move. He too is sans license and must utilize his feet and public transportation to secure employment. So we've set up a little "Take your Josh Vish to work" day.
The plan is I follow his route so that I know it for the future. Later in the day I plan to revisit it with Kevin. I also plan on having a fresh haircut, looking overall presentable and having a resume in tow. So that means I leave in a bit to go on my journey of discovery and enjoy some down time on the ride home and then later, GET SHIT DONE. I'll do what it takes to get my resume printed and to get cleaned up and then we'll head down to turn it in.
I am nervous.
For the first time in my life, I am nervous. I used to be a un-ending wellspring of confidence, but these past few years have done more than their share to humble me.
How do I regard my jail time in the interview? My time on Pretrial Electronic Monitoring? Fuck. I am so nervous. When you go in to interview for a job you want to look and feel your best. I certainly don't feel it and I'm worried I don't look it either. Hopefully my resume is solid and my overall personality shines through. This is a chance at a gym job and I WANT IT BAD. Free membership? Employment? I'd be well on my way to getting my life back together. Gaaaaaah! It's exciting but nerve-racking at the same time.
I have a feeling of putting all my eggs in one basket and I know that's dangerous, but I can't help it. This would solve SOOO many problems for me. Not just having an income and getting in shape again, but maybe repairing my relationship with Kevin and my parents. Not just restoring my confidence in myself, but restoring their confidence in me as well. And if paying rent and feeding myself are no longer my main concerns I can re-focus on my long-term goals.
There is sort of an unspoken agreement in the air right now between me and Kevin. I brought up that I can't really afford to move and that anything coming of his moving out would be shouldered by my parents. He basically laid down the same guidelines that my parents and Shannon have laid down for me years prior. It's sort of silently understood that as long as I am going to be productive and actively trying to get back on my feet instead of thinking of the most efficient method of suicide that he is going to stick it out and do what he can to help me. In this case meaning continuing to live here until I'm financially able to move out as well. None of that is confirmed and it could just be wishful thinking and misconstrued information, but I'd like to think I know him pretty well by now and I also need to stay positive. I need to feel like my actions are going to have some positive effect or I won't even bother doing them.
That last sentence holds more meaning than I have time to expound on right now, but suffice it to say that is my overall outlook on life currently.
I need to feel like my actions are going to have some positive effect or I won't even bother doing them.
So here it is. And here I am. Hopefully putting a positive foot forward. It's not Monday morning, and I haven't had a full night of sleep and I'm kinda scruffy at the moment, but so what. At least I am moving forward. Nothing is ever going to be perfect and if I keep waiting for it to be I will never do anything with my life. All I (or anyone else for that matter) can do is to do the best I can with what I have.
And you know what? I think that if I do that, even if I end up failing, at the end of the day I'll be able to be proud of myself and to sleep soundly. And confident to get up and attack my challenges head-on the next morning.
I was super-depressed last night/yesterday and about ready to hang it up.
It goes back to the whole wanting it bad enough thing. If you ACTUALLY want to do something, you'll do it. No matter the circumstances, you will find a way to do it. Aptitude at doing something was not what I lacked, it was the drive to do something. I didn't want to do anything.
The goal creates the path, not the other way around.
I'm feeling very positive, but also very nervous. I was proactive and checked some job listings and the very first one I found sounds a like a dream job, for where I am in my life right now. As such I updated my resume and am amidst plans to get a physical copy there. I know a person who works at the building where this potential job is located. Seeing as how as my main method of transportation will have to be the bus, I decided accompanying a person also reliant on the bus in order to get to this destination was a wise move. He too is sans license and must utilize his feet and public transportation to secure employment. So we've set up a little "Take your Josh Vish to work" day.
The plan is I follow his route so that I know it for the future. Later in the day I plan to revisit it with Kevin. I also plan on having a fresh haircut, looking overall presentable and having a resume in tow. So that means I leave in a bit to go on my journey of discovery and enjoy some down time on the ride home and then later, GET SHIT DONE. I'll do what it takes to get my resume printed and to get cleaned up and then we'll head down to turn it in.
I am nervous.
For the first time in my life, I am nervous. I used to be a un-ending wellspring of confidence, but these past few years have done more than their share to humble me.
How do I regard my jail time in the interview? My time on Pretrial Electronic Monitoring? Fuck. I am so nervous. When you go in to interview for a job you want to look and feel your best. I certainly don't feel it and I'm worried I don't look it either. Hopefully my resume is solid and my overall personality shines through. This is a chance at a gym job and I WANT IT BAD. Free membership? Employment? I'd be well on my way to getting my life back together. Gaaaaaah! It's exciting but nerve-racking at the same time.
I have a feeling of putting all my eggs in one basket and I know that's dangerous, but I can't help it. This would solve SOOO many problems for me. Not just having an income and getting in shape again, but maybe repairing my relationship with Kevin and my parents. Not just restoring my confidence in myself, but restoring their confidence in me as well. And if paying rent and feeding myself are no longer my main concerns I can re-focus on my long-term goals.
There is sort of an unspoken agreement in the air right now between me and Kevin. I brought up that I can't really afford to move and that anything coming of his moving out would be shouldered by my parents. He basically laid down the same guidelines that my parents and Shannon have laid down for me years prior. It's sort of silently understood that as long as I am going to be productive and actively trying to get back on my feet instead of thinking of the most efficient method of suicide that he is going to stick it out and do what he can to help me. In this case meaning continuing to live here until I'm financially able to move out as well. None of that is confirmed and it could just be wishful thinking and misconstrued information, but I'd like to think I know him pretty well by now and I also need to stay positive. I need to feel like my actions are going to have some positive effect or I won't even bother doing them.
That last sentence holds more meaning than I have time to expound on right now, but suffice it to say that is my overall outlook on life currently.
I need to feel like my actions are going to have some positive effect or I won't even bother doing them.
So here it is. And here I am. Hopefully putting a positive foot forward. It's not Monday morning, and I haven't had a full night of sleep and I'm kinda scruffy at the moment, but so what. At least I am moving forward. Nothing is ever going to be perfect and if I keep waiting for it to be I will never do anything with my life. All I (or anyone else for that matter) can do is to do the best I can with what I have.
And you know what? I think that if I do that, even if I end up failing, at the end of the day I'll be able to be proud of myself and to sleep soundly. And confident to get up and attack my challenges head-on the next morning.
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