Pride Month

I've been putting a lot of thought into pride month this year, and how I want to explore and celebrate it in this blog, the very title of which is about reclaiming the things we love that we have been told one way or another to put behind us. This blog attempts to be a place to re-evaluate the parts of ourselves that we have viewed as flawed, and to celebrate them as a part of our full beautiful selves.  hope, here, to explore all human qualities that we may have once viewed as flaws, and to understand them as a very valuable part of our whole beauty, and this is largely the message of Pride Month, in the context of extremely high stakes.

Pride Month celebrates an uprising that occurred June 28th, 1969, in which a marginalized people stood up to the authorities which had been shaming them for years. This uprising took place at The Stonewall Inn in New York City, and the events that took place in the early hours of that day are known as The Stonewall Riots. And yes, I don't like violence. I don't celebrate it. But let's look at what was happening. The people at this bar had long been considered easy marks by the authorities. Their sexuality had made them so. They were the cockroaches of humanity, and for years the police had flipped the metaphorical lights on to watch them scatter.  So I will celebrate the night that those people chose not to submit. That night, these people who had been mortified, imprisoned, and who's lives were constantly in danger of ruination by being publicly named in newspapers as sexual deviants, people with the strength of spirit to know that every societal message telling them they were sick and did not deserve respect was a fallacy? Those people took a unified stand against these acts and declared those acts wrong. Rather than allowing a system of oppression that was firmly in place continue, they stood up against it. They stood against the idea that they were diseased and not worthy of the same rights as others, merely because of who they loved.

This kind of thinking, often expressed privately, but for the first time taken on by a unified group, was a galvanizing force which gave rise to a number of lesbian and gay organizations across the world, and which has changed much of society's thoughts on homosexuality, person by person. One year after the Stonewall Uprising, the first Pride Parades took place, not only in New York, but also in  in Los Angeles, San Francisco and Chicago. The idea that not only was gayness not only something not to be ashamed of, but in fact, could be actively celebrated along with many other traits and qualities that make people diverse and beautiful, has been an idea that has taken us as far as we have come today. It is an idea that we celebrated through the Pride Parade, and which was later celebrated as a weeklong event, and which is now called "Pride Month".

And the message of Pride? It is universal, and is a message of inclusive, not of exclusion. Yes, this particular celebration arose because of a particular set of circumstances experienced by a particular group of people, but the idea of pride is big enough to encompass much more than that. Whatever you perceive as your flaws?Why do you perceive them that way? Who has told you this? First of all, IS someone outside of you telling you this? Or is there something in you telling you this? Does this quality harm other living creatures? Or is it something that can help to spread a little beauty? And if so, why not celebrate it as a part of the whole of you?

Now, I've read about people wanting to celebrate "Straight Pride" during this month. And this is not meant in the spirit of inclusion. It is because, somehow through this celebration of shifting thoughts about what is and is not "ok" to be in the world, there is a minority of heterosexual people who think they're being told they are "less than", and that's simply not the case. Nowhere in the idea that gay people have the right to be as proud of their sexuality as everyone else, is there a message that those people already having the privilege of being accepted by society should not be proud. But truly, everyone's been proud of them their entire lives for simply being this way. And if someone is straight and doesn't see how their conformity to the norm has been celebrated, they simply are not paying attention.

Think of it as a great big party where many people have been invited to drink and celebrate, and yet, not all people were allowed entrance to the festival. And then, at some point it was realized that a mistake was made, and more people were worthy of coming to the party and more invitations were sent. Nobody disinvited the people who were already at the party. And not one of those people already drinking and partying it up, were they thinking logically,  would feel the need to declare "And we're gonna be here too! We have the right to be here at the party, too!" This is blatantly apparent. Other people just want to join in on the rights and privileges that others have already had. Thankfully, neither love, nor acceptance, or legal rights are pieces of some metaphorical pie of which there are only so many pieces to go around and where one person's receipt of rights means there is less for someone else.  Equality and pride are to limited and quantifiable. There is enough for all.

That said. I plan, this month, to explore and shine a light on LGBT art and artists, and to make this month the most prolific one yet. So stay tuned!

Shawn Mendes On Carpool Karaoke

I've always enjoyed watching James Corden's Carpool Karaoke. It's frothy and fun, and Corden's ability to throw himself into the music and the moment without being hammy gives us all permission to be silly and enjoy the daily treats of life.  That said, it's kind of like candy in that, not only is it "bite sized" but it easily leads me into overdosing and wondering why I got started. So as much as I LOVE watching celebs like Adele and Michelle Obama tear the roof off that car, I save it as a special reward.

This clip with Shawn Mendes is, to me, as good as they get. I mean there's the prurient thrill of Shawn saying he'd pay $500 for Justin Bieber's underwear, along with some gags regarding Harry Potter fandom, and then there's Mendes' voice and music, which I wasn't too familiar with, but is pretty damn charming.

Happy 130th Birthday, Irving Berlin!

For a man who's songs have become synonymous with the celebration of some of our biggest holidays, those songs being God Bless America, Easter Parade and God Bless America, respectively, how do you pay homage to him on his personal holiday, the 130th anniversary of his birthday? These two clips are a great start, as they highlight two very different sides of his artistic sensibilities, both written relatively early in his career.

First up is a Garland performance of What'll I Do (1924) from one of the "Trunk Spots" of her television show, filmed in 1963. This is one of my favorites from the series for its simplicity, and its authenticity. The song was inspired Berlin's anguish at the death of his mother, with whom he was incredibly close and who's loss would also inspire All Alone (1924).

Next is a really terrific performance of You'd Be Surprised (1919), from Madeline Kahn performed live at his 100th birthday celebration back in 1988. Kahn maintains the song's intended style and perfectly illustrates how witty and risqué he could be.

For those of you who need a further fix, there is an incredibly long list of great songs and musical cast albums to plum, including songs like Cheek to Cheek, There's No Business Like Show Business, and his first gigantic hit Alexander's Ragtime Band, but these are my personal favorites, as sung by two of my personal favorites.

Media Deprivation: The Results

So as of Sunday, I was back to watching television. Had I missed it? Of course I had. I had missed the chaste, yet brooding masculinity of vicar Sidney Chambers on Masterpiece Mystery's Grantchester. The efforts of one fair haired and well muscled young vicar to be a leader in his small English village of 1953? His drive to stand up for true justice, while at the same time losing himself in whiskey and cigarettes, pining away for a woman he can never have?  It scratches an itch I wasn't aware I needed relief from! And yet, while I put away these things that I was using to fill time, I achieved quite a lot.

I did two blog posts. I organized my closet. I attended a tour of historic locations of now closed gay bars. I went to an open-mic night and tried out new material for my upcoming show. I switched phone services (which I had threatened doing for a long time). I applied for countless jobs. I put a dent in David Allen's Getting Things Done, which when complete, will allow me to implement a system to capture all of the tasks I need and want to do in order to complete them when time allows. I met someone new for drinks. I assisted my friend in her cabaret performance. I opened the windows one evening and drank a beer while playing cards with my roommate.

Were some of these things I would have done anyway? Sure. But a couple of them would have been much easier to say "no" to at the last minute if I had known that hanging out and watching television were an option. So, while I don't know that I want to completely get rid of television,  I am planning on alternating weeks in which I turn off the t.v. and find other ways to fill time.

Creating A Vacuum: A Week of Reading/Media Deprivation

Julia Cameron was the preeminent guru of creativity in the late nineties and early 2000s. Her book "The Artist's Way" held a promise that anyone could be creative, whether or not they had any held aspirations toward the concept of "art" as the current society had come to understand it. It broke down barriers, and allowed masses of people to find a way toward creativity, whether it was finding art in cooking, gardening, journaling, or in the more traditional forms of painting, acting, and writing for a wider audience than the self.

I have both taken the 12 week journey, which is very purposefully aligned with the structure of the AA program (in that it also is a twelve week program relying on accountability, faith, and easily trackable "steps") and taught it. And while the program traded a lot of its integrity in order to remain relevant and profitable through the creation of unnecessary merchandise and sequels, at the heart of it is a truly wonderful idea at work, with truly useful tools.

Now many of you may be aware that I recently found myself without the steady work that I had counted on for the past two years to sustain me in this city. This was both unsettling, and honestly, refreshing. It is allowing myself to rethink what I want, what I came to New York to seek, and to explore other possibilities to sustain myself financially that do not make me feel as if I am sacrificing the very thing I came out here to do. And yet? With all the time I suddenly and on my hands, I noticed it slipping away. It seemed that I was not much further in my pursuits than I had been. I'm sure you can all relate. With so many projects (find a day-job, find acting representation, build my visibility on-line, build Cathy's audience and opportunities for her to reach them, continue developing her material- character-message and world, write essays that might find an online audience, write the novel that's been percolating in my head for the past year, create a voice-over demo, take steps to get closer to feeling financially grounded for my future) it can feel like one step toward any of these projects doesn't really get you far in the long run. Commit to just one? Great! But how focused is that "one thing"? Is it my art? Is it Cathy Dresden? Is it writing? And if I pick one to the exclusion of others... I mean, I have worked too hard this past year and half to just let Cathy go. And everyone knows that success demands persistence. And while I understand that feeling that I have promise in many avenues is a terrific plus, it also leaves me somewhat unmoored and stymied.

So I'm taking steps. Baby steps. On Sunday, having noticed my lack of time to create, I took a hard look at myself and realized that I was spending way too much time in front of the television. The unsettling feelings I mentioned made it very tempting to escape into other world's with charismatic heroes and heroines. By watching them face their problems I was able to feel a sense of accomplishment without any of the inner turmoil of faces my much smaller hills. Add to that, the seemingly innocuous pleasures of matching up little digital icons of cherished Disney characters to receive the pleasures of points accrued and "treasures" won, and I had a pretty good idea of where much of that time was being spent. So step one? I took a page out of Julia Cameron's book (you were probably wondering how it tied in) and committed to a week of "Media Deprivation".  What exactly is "Media Deprivation" you ask? For those who would like to try this on their own, I will tell you.

Media Deprivation, which was originally titled "Reading Deprivation" is intended to be a time to free yourself from some of the many voices in your head that keep you from finding your own. The things you eliminate? Any kind of reading. Any television. Eliminate time on social media. ALL OF IT. You have to read for your job? Find ways not to. Or find ways to eliminate as much as you can, because once you have silenced everyone else's messaging which unbeknownst to you has constantly been thrumming in the corners of your mind, it creates room in your mind to be filled with your own ideas, your own messages, and it allows time in your day to put them out there, or to achieve all of the other life improving tasks that have always been pushed off to another time. And while you are spending your evening emptying the closet of old clothes you haven't looked at since 2012? Without words rattling in the background, you will likely find yourself paying attention to the feelings evoked by the process of letting go, rather than idly listening to someone yammer on about the current social gaffe that the news media is spinning in a communal tizzy over. Much better to take some time and focus on steps to improve your current situation, or even more fully enjoy it by being present in it. Now this is scary shit. Understood. There is a reason we find things to fill our time. This kind of confrontation can be an uncomfortable process, but it's end goal is relief. And the more you find yourself sticking to the process, the more you are likely to get out of it.

All of that said, there are some optional releases from the vacuum. Cameron allows for the possibility of going to the movies to see a revival of an old gem, and yet, if you habitually use movie going as a way to unplug? I would be conscious of that and act accordingly.  Can you listen to music? Yes. But if you really want the full experience, I suggest you don't. Yes, if you usually have the radio on during your commute, or listen to audio books, this leaves you with a seemingly endless amount of time with yourself. What will you do instead? Pray, possibly. Call an old friend. Center yourself and set your intention for the day. Observe the world around you. These are things that so many of us would love to do, but forget to do because we never feel like we have the time. Well here it is. Like a gift.

Me? I'm not doing this as part of the greater program, and have used this tool a few times before, so I am doing a variation. No television, and no video games. I will still read. I will still listen to radio shows and podcasts, and I will still occasionally wander into social media land, as a lot what I am wanting to do in the vacuum requires working online and engaging with the virtual community. Does that mean I will have to be extra vigilant? Yes. It also means I will have a little less time to fill, so I'll have to be very aware of ho I use the time online to ensure I am not randomly wandering to sites in order to avoid tasks I have set for myself. And my results may be a little less revelational than those being really hardcore. And yet, Julia Cameron also speaks about how important it is to do this in any form, and if sticking to the letter of the process as originally intended means you won't even attempt it? Do it in a way that you can.

So far I have done a lot of job searching, a blog post (which you are currently reading) and begun ruminating about a possible creative project for the future. Hopefully by the end of Saturday I will have many more achievements to report.

If you'd like to join me? Have questions? Concerns? Have done this in the past and disagree with things I have said? Please feel free to comment below, and I'll respond. I'd love to hear from you.

Angels in New York

Today I find myself nursing a completely irrational, absolutely unrealistic crush. They are famous people, some of them, actors all, and we've never met. You know the story. And I know it will fade! I know I am bewitched by the roles as much as the people. But that's also part of the magic of the theater, so much more intimate a form of communication than the cold dead touch of celluloid could ever be. To watch someone, several someones actually, giving their all to make a story come to life, working for a full eight hours, throwing themselves against the metaphorical and literal wall in order to make a story come to life for you? Putting themselves heart and mind into another person's circumstances and trying to imagine how they would feel and behave if they were in this person's shoes from day one of life? It's very much a gift. And so yes, I'm being coy about my fanboy feelings, and yet, a couple of days after seeing both parts of Angels In America at The Neil Simon Theatre and letting the experience continue to wash over and affect me, I do have a new and very real devotion for these actors, and this story.

And yes, Andrew Garfield has a particular appeal in the way that a lanky and sensitive gent who is giving the performance of a lifetime can have on another sensitive and not so lanky gent. It helps that this is an incredible role he is playing, that of Prior Walter. In my opinion, Prior, and not Roy Cohn, is the part to covet. Sure Roy is an incredible monster, a train wreck of a part that one can't help but watch greedily, but Prior is the heart of the story. Open hearted, thriving in his world, completely at home in all his complexity. He's a rebel in a way that I will never be, defiantly being an out gay male in a world where the majority of people (even the liberals!) were still figuring out how they felt about gay people. Most people at that time, and even ten years later, had thoughts like "Good people the gays? Sure. What two people do in their bedroom? Nobody's business. Kind people? Sometimes the kindest. Artistic! Creative! But would I want to be one? Never. Why put yourself through that? And confused!! Living a life where they can never be the gender they want to be, uncomfortable in their own skin, and performing a role for us, pretending they have parts they do not have to avoid being their true selves. And life can fuck you up. Childhood can fuck you up. But do these flaws, these things that they are, whether their fault or not, do they mean I should let them be near my children to unknowingly communicate that sickness to little souls still forming? I can't do that to my kid."

Of course now, many of us are coming to the belief that the soul, or our DNA, that which makes us up, comes into this world, already formed. Pliable, and shapable like a newborns soft spot at the back of her skull, but there is no doubting that from the beginning, there is a "there" there.

This is not the world of Prior, and more than that, there is a war on. And those most afflicted and affected by it are not winning that war. But Prior is fighting that war, against a disease and a culture, telling the world to fuck off because he is going to love the person he cares for in a public way, just like everybody else gets to. Because that declaration is a very important part of the act of loving. And then we discover that this "fabulous creature", this supportive boyfriend, lover of the past, this fierce spirit, this kindred spirit, is afflicted. And we, the audience proceed to go on this eight hour journey with him, watching him from afar, and yet feeling like our finger tips are just inches from his own, and that if we extended them far enough we would grab onto his hand and walk every step with him, while at the same time we wonder if we would. We wonder if we would have Prior's strength if life had not handed us his fate. We want to be him at the same time that we fear we are his treacherous, hand wringing companion. And if the person bringing Walter to life is doing his work, we love him. You can't help, but love him. And it's a strange kind of love because you admire this actor because you know he is performing an illusion. He is not gay. Does not really know this undeniable fact of Prior's life from the inside out. And as a gay person, some piece of me wished he was gay so I could feel like he was truly reaching out to me and saying "I understand. I am like you, and I will take this journey for you." And yet, when you stop and think about it, that's exactly what he is doing. He is saying "I have been in circumstances where I felt lost, I often feel like I am fighting a world that doesn't understand me, and as much as I can, and I will take this journey for you". I mean anyone who plays anyone, even their own self on stage, is taking a leap to understand something they are not, or no longer are. And so, eight hours after watching this man undergo a willing obstacle course of imaginary nightmares and heartbreak, terror and revelation, and after his gracious and humble curtain speech worthy of Hugh Grant at his most charmingly chagrined, I am left, days later with the gentle reverberations of his efforts.

And of all their efforts. For everyone in this performance is putting their entire lifetimes into these parts. Their efforts and Kushner's will be rewarded by connecting with and winning the heart of a different member of the audience, for every individual seeing this play will see a different story, and view it through different eyes. Those who see themselves as innocent seekers will find comfort in Prior or Harper. The mothers will likely thank Hannah Pitt for the stoic way in which she suffers the sins of her child and braves connection with those so little like her on the surface.  Those still struggling with their sexuality may latch on to Joe or to Roy, and those who lived through this time and gave more than they felt they were capable of will understand too well what Belize and Louis are experiencing.

These are people who's stories were not being told in this way twenty-five years ago. And now? These stories need to continue to be told. And not just Prior's. Not just Roy's. Or Louis's, or Joe's. The way that we can honor these feelings of admiration, goodwill and gratitude that we are left with is to to speak about this story, and and to honor those who people it. To broaden that support to stories in which the Hannah's, the Belize's and the Harper's of the world get told more fully and can inspire the attention and effort which supports writers who's hearts are pouring out the words which allow these other untold stories to take center stage.

Golden Guest Stars At MOMI

If you are a muppet fan, and have not been to any of the monthly screenings at The Museum Of The Moving Image, you need to get over whatever obstacles have kept you away, and get to Astoria. Craig Shemin, President of The Jim Henson Legacy, and his lovely wife Stephanie D'Abruzzo put together really rare and wonderful clips which are so exciting to see on the big screen. Today's screening features Oscar winners and nominees who appeared on The Muppet Show, including Liza Minnelli. Now, I really doubt that they will play the entire episode in which she appeared (a film noir parody in which muppets drop to their deaths like so many flocked flies) but I will gleefully and greedily consume whatever they exhibit.

Proceed From Joy

"Be splendid tonight, be focused, have fun, make theater: That's our way of repudiating the bullies, the killjoys, the busybodies and blowhards. We know the secret of making art, while they only know the minor secret of making mischief. We proceed from joy, they only have their misery." - from Tony Kushner to the staff of the Charlotte Rep, facing possible closure of their production of Angels in America in North Carolina (and as excerpted from The World Only Spins Forward: The Ascent Of Angels In America by Isaac Butler and Dan Kois

Cathy Dresden is a "Midtown Moment"

 Was excited to be a "Midtown Moment" with the incredibly charismatic Carolyn Fox, discussing the upcoming March 24th performance of Cathy Dresden: An Old Fashioned Girl at Pangea in the East Village. Tickets available here https://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/3339050

Is It A Rock Band???

Last Wednesday I did something pretty atypical for me. I stopped by the local gay bar on the way home around 6PM and ordered a drink. It was Happy Hour after all, and I figured that there would be a solid group of people taking advantage of two for one drinks, and yet... it was me, the owner, the bartender, and a regular who seemed more staff than patron. And yet, I've always been one to dive into social situations head first. So after about fifteen minutes of solitary sitting, watching them gab amongst themselves, I got a notification for discounted tickets to the upcoming revival of Angels in America, a production that had begun in London and is headed to New York, and which I'm frankly, very excited to see. So I thought to myself, "here's an easy icebreaker, I'll bring up the new revival and we'll have a lively theatrical discussion." But the response? Quizzical looks, and a tilted head from the bartender as he asked "Is that a band?" The bartender asked.

The owner, who is old enough, didn't know it either. And to be fair, while I feel like the play is ever present, it has been 25 years since it premiered on Broadway.  The patron though? The one who had been playing on his laptop? He had heard of it, and I felt a little vindicated. And yet, I'm still a little surprised, as this is considered the greatest American play in the past quarter of a century. But then, maybe it didn't matter.  maybe people today, even gay people, aren't as culturally aware as I would think.  I mean, I didn't think to toss out A Streetcar Named Desire and see what reaction that would have gotten. I would like to think that more people would have heard of that, but in truth, I don't know that they would have. And shouldn't they? 

I first saw the play around 1998, ironically, with a girl I had been seeing for a while. And it was a strange experience to see. It was a glimpse at a distasteful world. A world I didn't quite grasp, in spite of the fact that in my reality, I was reaching toward it with one hand and pushing it away with another. Holding hands with a man in the park as we chat about Come Back Little Sheba? Lounging around in full drag? Having random sex with a leather daddy? Embracing the full force of my feminine side in the daylight, owning every ounce of me?  I couldn't see it. Didn't want to. Would not be going there. Ever. And of all the characters, if I related to any, I related to Harper, the Mormon mother in denial who slowly but surely inched her way into a new and open way of being. Strange that I didn't see myself in Joe Pitt. And yet, I think I saw him as too far above me. Better looking than me, more manly than me, more chiseled, ramrod straight and respectable. All things I had never really succeeded at being. But, like Joe, I saw myself as above gay culture. They were the victims, thy were the weak ones. Weren't they? They luxuriated in femininity and vulnerability. Didn't they?

And I had already upon seeing this play experienced the giddy, floor shaking experience of a really great kiss from a man, but I did not consider myself gay, because I had not completely given into camp, into ceaseless emoting, into gooey public intimacy with a man as if we were romantic. 

And yet, now? I have done a version of every single one of those things that I cringed at before. And those that I haven't? Those are the experiences I long for. A long term relationship with one that I know intimately from day to day? I want that. That thing that when I first saw this play, that I saw as men "playing house"? I yearn for it. Ad I'm grateful. I know that what I am and who I am and what I've done isn't "gay" for everyone. But it is for me, and I am grateful. Grateful to be a part of a community who has been through the experiences painted in this piece. Grateful to have had some of those experiences myself, grateful to be watching the play from what feels like the inside out rather than looking from the outside in, like a petrie dish. Because there's so little redemption to be found in judgement, and so much to be had when one can look at himself and ask "Why am I judging? What is the fear here about?" And then step through that fear. 

Joe's resolution at the end of the play is ambiguous to say the least. But, as someone who's journey has been a version of his, even though he "pretended" so much better than I ever could have, fI see hope for him. We only see him at the beginning of his journey, and the years have a way of changing a person if you are able to strip away the false and look at the reality of yourself and who and how you are in the world. And so, yes. People, gay and straight need to know this play. They need to look back on our history, our post stonewall history, which was every bit as much a struggle for those who experienced it, as the closeted years of those before. We need to be able to see a time, which is close to the one we currently live in than it was just two years ago, if only to know that we can, and with strength and with our eyes open, we will.

What Am I Doing Here?

"What am I doing here?" that's the question I've been asking myself more and more often lately. And it makes sense. It's a good question? Surely, whether we are wondering why we are still at a particular job, in a particular relationship, in a particular, city, state, or on earth in general, it is a good question to ask. It's an even better question to have a ready answer for. At this time, for many of the situations I find myself in, no answer is particularly forthcoming. 

This city? Well, I know why I came here. And this city has been very good to me in many ways. I wouldn't have dated as much as I have here in probably any other city. I wouldn't have had so much success with this character, wouldn't have written this show, or have the opportunity to be performing it so often. I wouldn't have access to all this culture, and these opportunities. So the question now, is, am I still doing what I came out here to do? 

Well, with Cathy, I am. Although this is only my fifth upcoming appearance as Cathy in a little over a year, I am growing an audience, she is getting more exposure, and more things are happening for her than could have been thought of in Austin, Texas. And yet, since I started working on her, I haven't really gone out for auditions, at least no where near as much as I used to, which in turn, was no where near as much as I should have been. So that's one thing that needs to happen. More auditions. And as for Cathy, it's time to start pulling things together and doing writing for the second show I've been pondering.

My writing? I've been journalling. Writing for myself. Which is important. It's important to process all that is happening in a completely safe and private place where it doesn't matter what is written, because no one will read the minor gripes and complaint you toss out about them, receiving them as major blow. Better than that, they have no concern that someone else might read them and judge them by your opinions. And yet, public writing? I have things to say. But I'm not currently writing for public consumption. I DID do one thing to clear away obstacles. I had to talk to my family and ask them not to read this blog. Because who can really be honest about what's happening in life knowing that their mother is eagerly reading it all, even if it's only for the purpose of cheering you on?  There are something's that, with the much scrutiny and that much whitewashing would never get out there. So... that's one. More blog posting, work on a fiction piece.

Romance? That one needs a rest I think. It needs me not to worry about it. To breathe, give it some room, and quit working so hard. Because working for relationships, especially in the beginning, scares guys off. Not that I'm not going to continue swiping and texting and meeting people in person, but I'm going to relax my investment. Keep an open mind and think before I act. I do think one good adjustment I made was the decision not to be too physical too quickly. It makes a difference. 

There are definitely more things to take into consideration, daily life goals, but those are the big ones, the reasons I'm here, that if I am going to remain here need to be focused on. Otherwise, I'll find myself in a cubicle, just like I did in LA, not expressing myself in any fashion, doing exactly what I could in Austin, Texas, but spending more money and emotional energy to do it. I do not want that to happen. So... time to get to work.