Split Space-a-nality
Jul. 2nd, 2004 06:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mrdreamjeansI’ve only been home from Boston for a couple of days and my ongoing conflict between needing “space” and savoring the benefits of an urban environment is making me restless. I’ve lived with this split my entire adult life.
As I look around my parents’ home where I’ve landed for a couple of months, I am happy with the comfort and tranquility, content to savor the gentle hills of the surrounding ranch land and the immense possibilities of the sky. As Tim (gotmoof) can tell you, we even have a skyful of stars to entrance the eye, a rare occurence in some of the bigger cities.
The neighbors’ cows have been giving birth at an astounding rate and cute little black calves with splashes of white on their faces are everywhere in the pastures, along with graceful Quarter horse foals cuddling next to their protective moms; a variety of birds have made a home at my folks’ home.
I like the space. I like the quiet. I like the lack of noisy and nosy neighbors. I like being around my family and to attend band concerts, church suppers and other small town social events. I am happy that rents, gas prices and other costs are low. I like personally knowing the auto mechanics at the car dealership, my doctor and the ladies who volunteer at the local art league. I like the lack of traffic and the guilty pleasure of grumbling at the 80 year old driving 45 in a 70 mph zone. Sometimes I even enjoy being an invisible fish in a smaller pond. But then the itch begins.....
I’ll be speaking on the phone with a friend in Seattle, Chicago or New York and they’ll have to head out the door to a dinner with friends, to a movie theatre or political event, to a concert or theatrical production, a night out dancing at a favorite club. I feel a familiar stirring, the desire to be in a place where I can readily participate, be close enough to join right in.
I like the idea of walking to work, the pleasure of eating out at a new restaurant on a whim. I like country dancing with my arms around someone special or attending a sporting event in the big city and rooting for the underdog. I’ll be watching the news and a friend will be announced for a role in a new play or musical and I’ll be wishing I was there, wishing that I could compete just for the joy of competition and the chance to strut my stuff.
I don’t like the isolation... that’s when open space becomes confining. I might be content if there was someone special to share the silence, as I’ve never been afraid to be alone. I grew up with small town values, but big city desires. I’m often split. I miss being able to put my talent out there. I miss the opportunity of a last minute date. I’m 70 miles from the nearest city and unfortunately, HGTV often wins over a 90-minute drive to visit friends or to party.
A friend from Detroit recently said that I was very good at looking forward to being home, but not good at being home. I create wonderful spaces, but was happiest leaving them. It gave me pause. I do love to travel... ever in search of new space. How can I be in nesting mode and ready to hit the road in the same breath? A conundrum....
I’ve taken a lot of criticism for my recent move back to Texas from friends around the country. I agree with most of their jabs at Texas. I don’t like the climate or the politics here either. I don’t like the people I come across who use living in a small town as an excuse for having a small mind; but they are rare.
I also don’t like over-reaching granola, PC politics...the me-first, bunker mentality of some city-dwellers I know. I can do without the attitude, thank you. I don't judge (or try my best not to). I am simply living my life as best as I can, far from perfect, but giving it my best shot.
I want to be around people whose minds are as spacious as the horizon, who are kind, generous and spiritual. I want to be around people who know and care about their neighbors; who respond to a crisis as a community, but also honor and respect your privacy. There are people like that right here deep in the heart of Smalltown, Texas.
I guess I’ll have to continue having a split space-a-nality, traveling the country in search of complete inner and outer landscapes. Who knows. Peace and happiness may be on the horizon. Wanna come along?
As I look around my parents’ home where I’ve landed for a couple of months, I am happy with the comfort and tranquility, content to savor the gentle hills of the surrounding ranch land and the immense possibilities of the sky. As Tim (gotmoof) can tell you, we even have a skyful of stars to entrance the eye, a rare occurence in some of the bigger cities.
The neighbors’ cows have been giving birth at an astounding rate and cute little black calves with splashes of white on their faces are everywhere in the pastures, along with graceful Quarter horse foals cuddling next to their protective moms; a variety of birds have made a home at my folks’ home.
I like the space. I like the quiet. I like the lack of noisy and nosy neighbors. I like being around my family and to attend band concerts, church suppers and other small town social events. I am happy that rents, gas prices and other costs are low. I like personally knowing the auto mechanics at the car dealership, my doctor and the ladies who volunteer at the local art league. I like the lack of traffic and the guilty pleasure of grumbling at the 80 year old driving 45 in a 70 mph zone. Sometimes I even enjoy being an invisible fish in a smaller pond. But then the itch begins.....
I’ll be speaking on the phone with a friend in Seattle, Chicago or New York and they’ll have to head out the door to a dinner with friends, to a movie theatre or political event, to a concert or theatrical production, a night out dancing at a favorite club. I feel a familiar stirring, the desire to be in a place where I can readily participate, be close enough to join right in.
I like the idea of walking to work, the pleasure of eating out at a new restaurant on a whim. I like country dancing with my arms around someone special or attending a sporting event in the big city and rooting for the underdog. I’ll be watching the news and a friend will be announced for a role in a new play or musical and I’ll be wishing I was there, wishing that I could compete just for the joy of competition and the chance to strut my stuff.
I don’t like the isolation... that’s when open space becomes confining. I might be content if there was someone special to share the silence, as I’ve never been afraid to be alone. I grew up with small town values, but big city desires. I’m often split. I miss being able to put my talent out there. I miss the opportunity of a last minute date. I’m 70 miles from the nearest city and unfortunately, HGTV often wins over a 90-minute drive to visit friends or to party.
A friend from Detroit recently said that I was very good at looking forward to being home, but not good at being home. I create wonderful spaces, but was happiest leaving them. It gave me pause. I do love to travel... ever in search of new space. How can I be in nesting mode and ready to hit the road in the same breath? A conundrum....
I’ve taken a lot of criticism for my recent move back to Texas from friends around the country. I agree with most of their jabs at Texas. I don’t like the climate or the politics here either. I don’t like the people I come across who use living in a small town as an excuse for having a small mind; but they are rare.
I also don’t like over-reaching granola, PC politics...the me-first, bunker mentality of some city-dwellers I know. I can do without the attitude, thank you. I don't judge (or try my best not to). I am simply living my life as best as I can, far from perfect, but giving it my best shot.
I want to be around people whose minds are as spacious as the horizon, who are kind, generous and spiritual. I want to be around people who know and care about their neighbors; who respond to a crisis as a community, but also honor and respect your privacy. There are people like that right here deep in the heart of Smalltown, Texas.
I guess I’ll have to continue having a split space-a-nality, traveling the country in search of complete inner and outer landscapes. Who knows. Peace and happiness may be on the horizon. Wanna come along?
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Re: Into the light CarolAnne! Into the Light!
Date: 2004-07-02 06:55 pm (UTC)I spent 16 weeks in Salt Lake City in 1996 (living in Murray) performing in "Phantom of the Opera" downtown. I do know the city's good points and bad points. Good things such as friendly people and Ruth's Diner in the canyon above the city, the charm of Park City and its shopping and scenery.
The bad - being hounded online by married Morman men who are desperately looking for a connection with another man, the politics of the state government; the amazing sense of returning to the 1970s where the men in the clubs (membership only) are drinking to get drunk, overindulging to desensitize themselves. (I am aware that I am speaking as a visitor, but these are my observations).
One funny occurence on 4th of July, 1996. I am watching the holiday parade moving past my apartment complex. I am in hysterics as a middle school marches by in Mormanland strutting to YMCA. Too funny, as I'm sure they were unaware of the origins of the song (or maybe a closeted band director was taking his stab at irony:)
I appreciate your sentiments and your alignment with my needs; however there is a difference... your work, dogs and the linebacker are there when you return. Lucky man! Lucky me to know you!
Re: Into the light CarolAnne! Into the Light!
Date: 2004-07-02 07:27 pm (UTC)This works for you
Date: 2004-07-02 05:45 pm (UTC)I guess I'm in full-blown Nesting Mode, which also comes from a small-town upbringing. While Madison offers a phenominal degree of arts venues (both performing and graphic/sculptural arts) and a wide variety of restaurants (Even Gotmoof can find a sushi bar here), between my work schedule, budget and general inertia, I generally stay home. The idea of travelling to Milwaukee or Chicago, while relatively close, is as unlikely as walking to the moon. I am happier in solitary persuits; my bicycling is a prime example.
This is not to say that I am untravelled. I've been to NYC and Washington, DC twice, and even went to Orlando, Florida last summer, but none of these trips was my idea: The first trip to NYC was with the local Gay men's chorus, the trips to DC and Florida were with my partner's idea and we went together. I went to Denver last spring, but that was at my sister's request (She had a health scare and needed morale support). I don't begrudge the trips, either. I had a wonderful time in NYC, DC, Florida and in Denver; it just never OCCURS to me to GO ANYWHERE.
There's a local contingent that took off to Minnesota this weekend to participate in Bear Camp. I'm sure they'll have a great time, assuming they survive the mosquitoes. I just can't see it. Let's jetison the emotional/judgemental baggage surrounding lusty, furry guys out in the woods together; why bother, when I can get into more than enough trouble locally, at a tenth of the expense(Actually, I've only recently learned that many guys leave town to "misbehave" to avoid local scandal. That strikes me as sad from a societal point of view and pathetic and hypocritical from a personal standpoint)? Further, why travel all that distance to meet guys I'll never see again (While I know a majority of the guys going to such events keep tabs on each other throughout the year(s), my personal track record in this regard is abysmal.)?
At the same time, you've made your reasons for traveling/returning home fairly clear, even if they seem rather conflicting to you. You clearly enjoy the personal contacts you've made through your travels, as well as the ammenities big-city living grants you, just as you require the space, solitude and quiet of your hometown. Your career gives you the ability to live the life you've chosen, and to do what you need to do to be satisfied as an individual; your visits to your hometown give you the equally needed time to recharge, to step out of the busy-ness of your life in order to reflect, re-assess your priorities, and finally to realize that you need to get going again. I see no great conflict here, merely the two sides of the same coin.
Re: This works for you
Date: 2004-07-02 07:16 pm (UTC)My business, as I know it, is changing rapidly and not for the good. Artistic quality, the ability to make a good living as an actor, is being increasingly undercut by the corporate mentality of the new stage show producing groups such as Clear Channel and Disney. Last week in NYC in tense negotiations over the new production contract, one high-profile producer referred to all actors as itinerant workers. Negotiations went downhill from there...Producers have walked out. Broadway may soon go dark, as a strike is imminent.
As you know, I've been offered work this Fall. The contract will be for about 15 months. The director is someone I admire (and have considered a friend for 13 years). He's responsible for many of my career breaks and I want to do the tour; but Casey asked today... What happens after the 15 months are up? Same question? What does Neil want to be when he grows up...lol?
She wants me to go into the investment end of banking and there are real opportunities in Houston for me, if I just stay put. I have a knack for investments and would like to create a practice where I focus on underserved communities such as actors, writers, musicians, the Gay & Lesbian community.... where earning power is all over the map and financial security so important.
Unfortunately, this means no singing, no moving about the country and spending time with many of my dear friends who are scattered to the winds. My friends are everything to me.
I won't bore you with more details, but I have a lot to consider. What I am so pleased by and astounded by, to be honest, is that you have never met me and you totally get me. I will reread your final paragraph often in the weeks to come.
Thanks!
Re: This works for you
Date: 2004-07-02 08:40 pm (UTC)That said, there will come a time when you DON'T win that role, when you can't hit those notes as strongly as you used to, and there may be a sad day (Bright Lady forbid!) when Broadway goes dark. It's not so much a matter of "What will you do when you grow up?" as it is one of simple survival when your unstable profession becomes untenable.
Jumping from role to role, stage to stage, you've proven that you're phenominally adaptive, and I have no doubt that you will land on your feet, on stage or off.
While office work may seem like a sentence to Purgatory, your future life need not be limited to a soul-less cubicle. Local theatre groups would kill for a person with your range and experience, singing groups (Gay and Strate) need strong Baritone/Basses...and your friends, tho scattered to the four winds, might well welcome the chance to see how well you become "domesticated". In short, like most things, the experience is only as good/bad as you choose to make it.
The choice to come off the stage is still a ways off, but if/when it comes, I know you will choose wisely.
Re: This works for you
Date: 2004-07-02 09:55 pm (UTC)I'm a Tenor I, Bruin. Although, if you met me in a bar and or a non-musical acting audition, you might mistake me for a baritone:) LOL!
Re: This works for you
Date: 2004-07-02 11:33 pm (UTC)I guess I'm simply projecting my preconceptions onto you. However, the analogy still holds; there will come a time when those high As won't come as easily as they once did, and you may find yourself having to settle for being (*gasp*) a Tenor II(Oh...the SHAME!).
I speak from experience. I started in Perfect Harmony as a Tenor I. After seven years, I find I'm far more comfortable as a Baritone (While I could carry Tenor II, I came out of a two hour performance vocally fried, needing up to two months of vocal rest to recover fully.).
no subject
Date: 2004-07-02 09:26 pm (UTC)I know how you feel. I grew up in Tacoma, well, actually University Place, a city now, but was just a part of unincorporated Pierce County and was adjacent to Tacoma,Lakewood and the Sound and have wanted to live in the big city, such as Seattle since at least 5-6 grade. My heart is indeed in the big city. I do not like but suburbs, even though I grew up in one. They do have their place, but they aint for me.
The way I look at it for me is to go away to the ocean, or what have you to unwind, and then come back to the hustle and bustle of city living and yet, still be able to domesticate and be a homebody most nights.
I have lived in a small town, Medford Or. in 1995 and while it's a nice place, it's way too small for me and I have felt that the old Gary U.S. Bonds song, I Wanna Holler, But the Town's too Small was very appropriate in my case.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-03 04:44 pm (UTC)I was raised first in a medium-sized city and then the middle of rural nowhere. All my adult life I have been torn between desiring the country (when I live in the city) and the city (when I live in rural or small-town areas). And frankly, after seven years in what has been a surprisingly small-minded-sized small town, I can't wait to get back to the culture, the vibrancy, the openly gay ambiance of big-city living again.
It remains a mixed dynamic for me--I love the open spaces and the access to the country, the much lower cost of living and the less stressful pace. But along with that come horrid winters and impossible driving distances, acute social isolation, the lack of culture, of urban energy, of gay ambiance, of crowds to roam together with doing cultural things, compatible fellow "eccentrics" whom I can fully be myself around.
But I also "get" that I have always obsessed over the greener grass on the other side of whatever fence I have myself staring over -- city/country, East Coast/West Coast (well, not really, I have ALWAYS hated the East Coast), make that West Coast/Europe, good job/lousy living conditions or vice versa, &c.
Tater Tot Bob seems remarkably fortunate in having achieved a rare balance of so many of these things. One wonders if it hasn't really been an "inside job" (the happiness, or the acceptance, I mean), and being more tolerant of what might otherwise include terrible circumstances?
Another example of mine: on the two trips I made to Fort Lauderdale last year, I had a thrilling time the whole time I spent with my host, and now friend, Bill, experiencing *his* Floridian Gay Mecca. I also spent a good deal of time moving through this landscape on my own, and found it to be very isolating, culturally barren, boring, and bearing zero resemblance to the place Bill inhabits. I "got" that it was about subjective impressions, and his excellent fit with that environment, while I was simply in a "different" place: In the long run, two things dissuaded me from exploring relocating to FTL (well, a third one included Dale's absolute refusal to consider living in Florida EVER): it was not the heat and humidity, but the utter flatness and endlessly identical housing subdivisions that made my mind numb. That and the fact it was an economy based on externally imported money being spent on service industry support of the owners of that external capital (wealthy queers and retirees on the one hand, and gay boys willing to put up with anything and take any job just to live in an all-gay all the time place--much like San Francisco has been since the 1970s --I have already "been there, done that" -- and I remain in love with northern California).
no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 10:53 pm (UTC)Maybe the compromise is to find a city that is small enough to live out of, but which offers the things you like easily to hand. But then again, maybe it is best to consider the country as a place you look forward to visiting, even if you rarely do. Sometimes, a dream not fulfilled is better than a disapointment or compromise.