Christmas joys

Over holiday, I've been giving a lot of thought to my future as a human being and as an artist. I received Stephen Sondheim's book, Finishing the Hat, as a gift from my beloved parents, and it has induced me to not only write him a letter someday, but also to approach my work from a different perspective.

1: nothing is ever entirely right, which is, of course, the blight man was born for. As a believer, my own imperfections are a firmly-rooted truth, but it has been difficult for me to realize that, whatever I do, The Book -- though I am striving to make it the best it can be -- will never reach that fever pitch of utter "rightness." I used to paint, and still do when I find the time, and my current work is exactly like a canvas covered with an image in oils: I may never truly "finish." It's getting a sheen of realism that gives me the occasional hint that it's done, but I can always build up the blue here, or add contrast in the foreground, or give a shape a better curve and definition. There is always more to do, and so, there is never the perfect place to "stop."

2: Sondheim says, "God is in the details." I love this, because it's not just a clever play on the words of a popular platitude: he's absolutely right. (Of course, listening to the detail of his lyrics and his music -- especially his music, which I unashamedly pretty much worship -- both God and the devil make their distinct presences known.) I was overjoyed to read this, and I think we must share a similar thought pattern (his words and music ring very true for me). I love details and I love the little extra touches that make things show up or pop out -- take for instance one of my favorite films, Chariots of Fire. Andy (Lord Lindsey) is at his estate with Sybil, an actress, who is also girlfriend to the runner Harold Abrahams. They are involved in a serious conversation about Harold's obsessive behavior, strolling across the yard, and in the distance appears an old man attempting to ride a bike. After a brief pause for his cigarette, Andy mutters nonchalantly, "Father's . . . never gonna learn how to do that," then turns back to her and continues their conversation with his usual good-natured sincerity. It is utterly charming, and exactly the idea I'm going for.

3: you can't fix something up if it doesn't exist. Basically, I HAVE TO ACTUALLY WRITE THE THING BEFORE I CAN TRULY FINISH IT. I don't think any further explanation is required.

4: I don't want this to really be such an involved part of my future life, wherever that may lead me. I don't want to wonder about how to phrase Gabriel's conversation, or how to describe Etienne's attitude or Vivian's gown when I'm auditioning for a show, or grocery shopping, or trying to choose high school math curricula for my kids, or whatever it is I'll be doing someday. I'm beginning to get that Pauline sense of being in labor for a really, really long time, and I want to finish it ASAP.

CONCLUSION:

I have been writing A LOT over Christmas break, and I shall continue to do so without fail until it is done. I hope. That's the plan. Whether I like what I write or not, I simply have to write it. Not every sentence has to be clever OR perfectly phrased -- so it's not. So there! But time will tell. I can almost see the book being not entirely rejected by publishers, and that it an excellent sign.

In the time being, I've gotten angry with the media, and I'm writing a song about it. Here's a part of a verse:

"From NYC to Hollywood,

From Perth to Paris, France,

We hear ‘their’ music, think it’s good,

And shimmy to ‘their’ dance.

When, pray, did we decide

That our own tests were inconclusive?

And when did our own intellects

Become so damned elusive?"

Clearly it's a work in progress, but I became rather stifled by my sudden raging opinion and felt that I had to write SOMEthing.

Happy (almost) 2011.

"I grow old, I grow old; I shall wear my trousers rolled."