We'll call her Helena, after Shakespeare's play. Helena and I agreed over tea that we dislike this American mentality of becoming your career, of being validated by what you "do" or how you make your money. It's especially evident how this mentality fuels the workaholic habits of this country here in Los Angeles, where the first question someone asks when they meet someone new is "what do you do?"
I usually answer: I am an artist. I am a renaissance woman. I am an actor. I am a citizen of the world.
This never fares well and I get asked "But what do you do for money?"
As if it's any of their business. I am who I am, and how I get by, well who cares. I manage. The point is I live my life as an artist, a lover of nature, a person. Right?
Or is it more important what I produce and how much it's worth by the amount I am paid.
Both Helena's father and my father taught us to live life doing what we love, knowing that is success, and that is how I live, but it this country I constantly come face to face with people telling me otherwise. It reminded me of living in Spain, where the butcher was as important as the banker because they contributed to the community. Reminded me how the quality of one's life was more important than how much one makes. How if someone wanted to work in manual labor because they liked to get their hands dirty, they did.
Granted, there are so many opportunities this country offers that aren't available elsewhere, but perhaps that's why I plan to move back to Europe once I've siezed those. Perhaps I'll move to a Vineyard and write.
However much money I make or dont, I want to end up like "Crazy Robertson." Well somewhat. Everytime I drived down Robertson Blvd in Beverly Hills I see the same old guy in the same spot....dancing. This man, who looks homeless, wears spandex, no shirt, a fanny pack, sneakers, and a headband. Nearby he is play a boombox. Everyday he stands on the sidewalk dancing to his own music regardless of the playing beat and sometimes I get the urge to join him.
Tonight I mentioned the guy to Helena's boyfriend. Turns out everyone knows about this crazy guy on Robertson. Apparently he's a millionaire. What do you do when you have so much money and don't know what to do? Buy dead shark art like Saatchi? Drink and Drive and go to Jail like Paris? Nah, I want to dance like Crazy Robertson.
4 comments:
This one made me smile. It reminds me of why I like you.
Keep being the free spirit that you are mija..I love you..BUT DONT CALL ME FOR MONEY! lol,jk and all those letters you use. LOVE MOM.
Wow. You sure know how to cut someone when you want to, and you're very good at it. I always knew you were talented, but your use of public ridicule, vicious contempt, and verbal castration combined with historical fiction and contextual error is an exception. I'm not surprised you’re headed to Sarah Lawrence to sharpen your weapon of choice.
I don't know which I will remember more -- being compared to a crazy old woman or referred to as a nut case. Probably crazy old woman because crazy and nut case are pretty much the same, don't you think? Old woman was a good choice because it emasculates me – a very nice twist of the knife. However, you failed to label me for what I truly am.
Thank you for providing access to your blog. Reading it has allowed me to finally gain an understanding of what happened last fall and to see you for who you really are underneath that silver spoon façade of yours. It also saved me from going out and spending my graduate student loans on a house in the hills, a ring, and baby clothes.
Hopefully, after you've exhausted your Flavor of the Month phase and your flagrant narcissism has subsided to a tolerable level, you will be able to appreciate someone who develops adoration for you without having to malign him.
Next time you pull your limoncello birthday gift from the freezer or visit a certain Studio City restaurant, say a toast to The Fool because that’s who I truly am. If you ever have need of one in your play, please name the character after me. Perhaps it will give you that needed edge on Broadway in your pursuit of a Tony.
-----
Guy 2: We have a really good WEEK together, and I know in his head that by the end of that week he's picking out children's names, especially after he referred to our future "house on the hills." Things are moving too fast for me: he starts feeling things, and I am still figuring out if he matches my friends and lifestyle (which he didn't). So I told him, early enough so he didnt spend money on a ring, that we need to slow down and think things through. SO we did, and I thought about it, and I thought, we are better friends than anything else. SO i was honest with him, and he said, it's okay....I just want you in my life even if it's as a friend. Now I realize what he meant was, it's okay, because I want to keep you as a friend so you can realize that we belong together and live happily ever after. Well that is not what I meant....so no wonder he calls me, and like a crazy old woman tells me he doesn't understand how I could've gotten over him so quickly after our great week and that he feels used because of it. Nut case closed.
Hey Claudia, I am a fan of the Robertson Dancer as well. I have been watching him dance for close to ten years now. - Alex Rose
Post a Comment