more rambling...

I was in the waiting room today ready to take an armful o' poison when I saw a celebrity on TV. I don't know why it hit me so dramatically, but he seemed ordinary as if he could have been a waiter, a person behind the counter at the theatre, a CVS manager or a person I ask where the almonds are at Trader Joes. Nope. This was a Hollywood type, the honored one. He had disheveled hair and an ordinary drab outfit, but nevertheless he was part of the hooplah at Cannes as he stepped out of a limo.

I believe that we honor the wrong things in our culture. We no longer are impressed with classic books, the arts, and are hanging by a thread as reality shows give accolades to those with poor values, bad grammar, hot bodies, lots of dough and terrible manners. It hit me that our culture puts these types who "make it" on pedestals, throws lots of money at them and then takes a huge amount of joy tearing them down and transforming them into a shadow of their former "creative" selves.

 I simply can't figure out the reason why we are utterly obsessed with fake money culture. We honor their highlight reel as we compare our simple (but happy) documentary.  Regular people like teachers, mothers, researchers, philosophers, gardeners, poets, musicians, designers, and some actors continue to thrive and yet feel defeated if they don't "make it." What they don't understand is... usually, the dreaming about it and going after it is more fulfilling than actually getting there. I wrote my book for the fun of it and yet am asked every day if it is "making any money." The golden calf lives on and on (and on).

My daughter is now in the actors studio in Chicago. I've been after all of my kids to find an outlet for the sake of the creativity...  for without it, we feed into the lure of the money, the fame, the anti-depressants, the booze and the bullshit, which isn't that fulfilling in the long scheme. Fulfillment comes from within. I'm so proud of her, and told her that if she creates characters for the joy of it, it will be enough. If she makes money at it, wonderful. But if she loves it with all her heart, that is the thing for longterm joy. There are very few Meryls, but they do exist. Be an artist for arts sake and let the money unfold... or not. But, above all things... BE an artist.

I'm sure that the Kardashians and Jersey housewives are having a ball with their money, but when the shows end and there are no hobbies, no instruments to play, or poems to write, there might be a big joy gap, and we will see that in their divorces, substance abuse and unfulfilled relationships. Money is entertaining, but it isn't enough. I'm sure the shopping will occupy their time, but their true personal evolution shows in spades with phrases like...

"Her and I like it."
"I could have went to that restaurant."
Pronouncing genre like gen-ree. It just makes me crazy. 


I have grammar rage too.

Why this bothers me so much is beyond me, but even journalists make gaffe after gaffe, and... I'm far from a grammarian or syntax junky. Journalists are being hired because they are thin and pretty - it is like a high school nightmare revisited. Our media is promoting MEDIOCRITY.

Why do I care? Perhaps being corrected verbally by my mother and her red-penning my letters for years at a time drove it home a bit for me. I believe that as much as my mother's family values were strange at best, I was raised to be obsessed with personal growth and to honor being an artist. I was not taught to be a 'famous anything' but to revere and search for the artist within myself, which I have done since I was ten years-old. I found my greatest celebration in loving my family, which (beyond my urge to create) is the only reason I am completely fulfilled and so strong at this juncture of my poor health. I can die in my sleep tonight and know I did it right.

I am drawn to more than TV, shopping, and trivia games. I honor my mother for allowing me to see the value in God, trying new things, making a fool out of myself for the sake of personal growth, and being an artist and a musician. I don't consider myself a writer, but I like the expression of it... I am into the ba-dum-bum and the rhythm of it. God, I love a decent poet.

Yes. I learned so much from my mother, but could never tell her because she needed to die angry and bitter. I'm a little crazy. She was a lot crazy. I think I may have surpassed her in the forgiveness, silliness and kindness department, but perhaps she just didn't know how. Sad.

What I do know is that love is enough.. love of your people... and love of your art.


At least it is enough for me.

Choice.