money doesn't bring the good times

one of my cousins
who has a lot of money
once told me that money doesn't make you happy
it just makes everything easier

let's set aside the obvious truths of that statement
and look at what it ignores

the past couple of weeks
i've been on a forced spending freeze
meaning that i have nothing to spend
so my creativity has been working on overdrive

yesterday
a banner day
first, jerry springer the opera at speakeasy
(thanks to the ever chivalrous jt for the ticket)
now jerry springer was a big hit in london
but it was only seen in a concert staging at carnegie hall when it came to new york
the show
if fluffy fun
doesn't say as much as i wanted it to
but the production
as with all speakeasy productions
was stellar
i extra specially loved joelle lurie
who played a trailer park girl with dreams of being a big city stripper
and sang the best song of the night
"i just wanna dance"
(the video is not of joelle lurie)



following that tasty theater binge
i went to a party at my soul brother ivan's house
a goodbye party for sergio, the bull riding busser who's off to chase a dream in san antonio
it was by all accounts
a badass time

the thing i love most about this life
is that it allows us to do what we want
with the people we want
when we want

god bless

diamonds

whoooooo sister
watching the tv movie diamonds right now
and let me tell you
whoever wrote that story
was aaaaaaaaaaaangry

judy davis should be in better movies
it's a shame
people like miley cyrus
piggy backing on daddy's one hit wonder
to become an icon
meanwhile the truly talented
get stuck with low rent gigs
that pay the bills
and max out the soul

love

ok
for the next month
i am only going to focus on the positives
on this blog
and in life

the past couple of months
were like a beat down
i got cut up
but now the open wounds
some of which were self-inflicted
have turned to scabs
and movement that was once labored
is starting to come as easily as it used to

i'm 26 years old
older than i ever thought i would be
living in boston
building a dream
i've been back in my hometown for almost two years
and in that time
i've made and reconnected with some of the greatest friends i've ever know
connection, that's the goal

so many ways to connect
interpersonaletically
internetically
telephonetically
artistically

the joys of being a writer
i can't overstate them
putting yourself out there
good bad happy sad peaceful mad
for others to take in
and hopefully
return

i'm writing a musical
with an amazing songwriter
at the end of the day
that's all that matters to me
because after i'm gone
i want people to look at what i've built and say
tommy did what he was supposed to do
even when he ignored the things that others wanted from him

pursuing art is worth the other sacrifices
but only if you give the art 100 percent
and that's what i'm going to do
from now
until you see my show

hate

if someone told you that they hated you
could you feel inspired by them?

my answer
i really don't think so

beautiful death

what do you do with a flower
once it has died

a flower starts as a seed
quite unremarkable at its inception
but the seed sprouts
becomes a plant
and the plant bears the flower

the flower blossoms
until some human cuts it
and puts it in a vase
to wilt and rot
at which point the narcissistic human
tosses it into the garbage
amidst coffee grinds
and used condoms
and banana peels

but if the human leaves the flower in the vase
and allows it to brown
and wither
does its beauty fade?
or does the human's concept of beauty just hit its limit?

america

the best writing
is that which comes from within

the best food
is eaten in the company of good people
prepared with passion
enjoyed with appreciation

the cycle of art
love
work
death
depression
enjoyment

if i had kids
i think the most important thing i could teach them
would be to find their art

i don't know how i found mine
teachers
friends
family
but ultimately
i think i was born with it

yesterday
i took a couple of online quizzes
one was political
and determined that i was a socialist
and one was about personality
and it determined that i was a capitalist pig

i am america
God shed Its grace on me

what's enough

you lied to me
you broke my heart
and still
i come back for more

you ruined me
you made me question myself

and still
i come back for more

is it the way you look?
no, at least not for me
even if that's all everyone else sees

is it the way you talk?
certainly not
because you don't produce poetry

then what is it
that makes me question myself
and ask
can i compromise my beliefs?

no
i cannot
and perhaps that's why i hang on
because you are special
but not special enough to keep me going
beyond the initial attraction

friends as inspiration

so in line with my last post
indulge me while i talk about my friends

now to some of my family members who read and post on this blog
this may seem an insult
understand that i mean no disrespect

we're born into this world
quite unwillingly, i might add
and given a group of people who we love
inherited love
which is powerful
and different from earned love

sometimes we don't earn the love we inherit
and sometimes we don't keep the love that we earn

but when
on our travels
we find kindred souls
and build trust, which leads to love
the rewards grow exponentially over time

yesterday
a great, motivated friend shot me a swift kick in the ass on facebook
he's building a dream in europe
but still took time to point out how i was neglecting mine
blows my mind the effect we have on other people
without even trying

today
i walked around the waterfront with another dear, dear friend
talking about love in a way that wasn't necessarily comfortable
even though, in retrospect, it feels just right
anger is my achilles' heel
and finding someone who can forgive me that
is rare and wonderful

i leave this blog now
to attend to my other art
the musical
which fills my soul
and serves as a crystal ball
i look into it
and all i see is future greatness

flashdance (what a feeling)

let's get personal for a minute

as a rule
i don't write negative stuff about my family on here
i feel like i can't be objective
because i'm a participant

that said
here's a story for all you gay boys and girls
who are afraid to be yourself
and fear that accepting your real
will destroy the thing most important to you
your family

so i'm sixteen years old
(has it really been ten years!?)
i kiss a boy for the first time
and then i tell my mom that i don't know whether or not i'm straight
she hugs me
tells me she's always known that i question things
and reassures me that she'll always love me
no matter what
the next day
we get into a fight about something unrelated
and before i storm upstairs to my bedroom
she fixes her tiger gaze on me
and in her smoky boston accent spits out
"and i don't. do. gay."

shortly after that
i got a girlfriend
a hottttt girlfriend
and for the next four years
nobody questioned a thing
least of all my mother

so i go to college
and come back to boston for the summer after freshman year
drunkenly
i tell a few friends that i'm gay
the next summer
i tell my mom that i'm gay
she says
"don't tell anyone"
so i don't
for three months

august arrives and i'm gearing up to go back to texas
against my mother's wishes
i tell my sister
and then my little brother
and finally, in the middle of a huge fight, my older brother
sister's response: "i know"
younger brother's response: "next time you have something like this to tell me, don't wait so long"
older brother's response: "YOU LIKE PICKLE?!?"
mom's response to me telling them: "are you proud of yourself now?"

the night i told my older brother
i moved out of my mother's house
and haven't really been back since
save five or six too-brief visits
that's almost five years ago

i moved to boston to try to make things better
but it's difficult to have a conversation
when you seem to be the only one interested in talking

i love my mother more than anything in this world
we've reconnected
even if our visits happen only, ahem, sporadically
i drop by unannounced
and she's the same warm mother i've always known
her vision may be clouded
but she's not blind
and at this point
i'm grateful that she can still see me

to me
the word family invokes a lot of pain
i can't say that i've escaped completely unscathed from the past five years
but i was not an innocent bystander
nor do i consider myself a victim
god and my parents know that i was a piece of work growing up

but the one good thing to come out of all of this
amid so much bad
is that i no longer feel ashamed of my nature
my actions... that's a different story
but who i am
at my core
is beautiful
because we are god
and god is love

with that in mind
when people ask me how i can still love my family
i ask
how could you not?