Eighteen Years and Back to Square One

Eighteen years ago, today, my life hit a nadir as my Beemer hit a Utility Pole in the Silverlake section of Los Angeles. Well, actually, I ran my car into that pole, quite drunk; totalling my car and very nearly totalling myself. This came at the end of a steep decline in my fortunes after my move from San Francisco to try Film in LA (...and I had thought that Politics was a dirty business!).

This is what put me in the hospital...intensive care for ten days followed with another two weeks before being released to the home and care of a dear friend and the beginning of rebuilding a life from virtual scratch. Relinquishing my vision of having any control over my life and releasing my goal of making films that could affect audiences as do the live experiences I create...I consciously turned myself over to the Universe for some sense of where to begin.

Within a day or two of making that decision, that choice, the phone rang with the call from The NAMES project, asking me to create the CandleLight Ceremony at the Lincoln Memorial for the coming October. It was the beginning of a powerful rebirth for and of me.

This ceremony in 1992 was followed by the Ceremonies for the '94 Gay Games in NYC, then doors opened to theme parks, corporate theatre, product launches, another tour for Stanford, strategic experiential messaging campaigns and experiences across the country and abroad...spawning invitations to join panels and present at conferences, evolving into my own seminar on experiential messaging and even more work for academic institutions, corporations and non-profits.

I've made films that continue to resonate and move audiences, I have created theatre and stadium experiences that live on in the transcendent experiences of many in attendance, and still hear of these things from time to time. I've been so fortunate to be in a position to create these experiences for others.

I was exceptionally busy and successful, was asked to affiliate with prestigious firms, companies and agencies...did great work of which I remain proud. Life was pretty good. As 2006 came to a close, projects began to become less plentiful along with parallel dynamics in pretty much every industry and business. One had to work a little harder to keep business coming in, but it wasn't yet Terminal.

Then came the Fatal Handshake and my move to Australia on the whim and word of a pipe dreamer; a move and separation that closed the last of the doors on immediate possibilities in the US in favor of a long-term project in Oz that was more mirage than anything real. When the reality of that move materialized as the fact that it hadn't been fully thought through by the Man with the Offer, and that he wasn't at all prepared to execute what I'd understood he planned, I returned to NYC where I knew that, at least, I have Love.

Is Love enough?

I still have no place to live. I've been fortunate that several of my friends have successive travel schedules, and I've been able to sleep in beds for the past few weeks. One dear friend even secured his company's corporate apartment for over two weeks for me, such that I didn't have to keep moving my stuff around town every few days. That was a welcome oasis of respite from the ongoing upheaval that my life has become.

Right now, I'm covered (as in with a Roof) until the first week of January; then will again be seeking places to stay.

This won't be over, soon. I can see that. Though I have a number of proposals out, the glacial pace of decision-making has only protracted in this economy, and the position I am truly seeking -- that of Executive Creative Director (or Creative Director - I'm not greedy...) at a Marketing Company, Ad Agency or PR Firm -- is even more difficult to unearth and for which to secure a credible introduction and interview an even more arduous and circuitous process.

It's going to be awhile.

I want to be immersed in a River of Work; creating experiences, telling stories, successfully connecting people and products or businesses (or institutions and agencies) in compelling, productive and profitable ways...and be paid for it.

As it is, I daily wrestle with Shame and Failure on my way to work at Le Marche d'Pomme. I do fully embrace the product and have for decades, and once I am on the floor I can easily immerse myself in personal interactions with intelligent, interesting people seeking solutions that I can offer and provide. When immersed, I can forget that I am wearing a t-shirt and a name tag; something Dennis Miller used to joke about...something many of us used to joke about. Not so funny, now.

The work, itself, has some fulfilling aspects to it and there could not be a better retail environment. The kids that work there are great; each unique in background, abilities and aptitudes, and each offering enlightenment of their own and enhancement to my cache of experience that may serve me well in the future. It serves me well, now.

Beyond that, there may be a possibility of (rapid?) growth for me within this iconic corporation: I have my eye on teaching and leading seminars with the ultimate goal of rising within the Marketing part of this company.

I'm perfectly suited to offer significant value to the company in that area. Will they see it?

Meanwhile, I have received my first paycheck, and am now officially taking home less in a month than I used to make in one day.

Less.
In.
A.
Month.
Than.
I.
Made.
In.
One.
Day.

How far I have fallen. I have to consider the cost of a side dish at the take-out counter, I must wait 'til the weekend to fill a prescription. I see everything as how much time I must work in order to pay for it. A cheap lunch can cost almost an hour of work. I am ashamed of where I have come.

There is much promise and possibility, out there; but no security, no guarantees. The effect of all of this on my psyche and my physical self is undeniable. I dream a lot; vivid, colorful, dramatic and unsettling visions of conflict and negativity. Physically, my workouts continue to yield less than they should, and my neck is so tight that I quite literally cannot turn my head to the right; I must turn my entire torso to look in that direction. My life is full of doubt from every corner.

And, I'm bushed.

No choice but to continue moving forward, though. None of the potential inherent in this job can be realized without actually doing the job. And as I say, I do thoroughly enjoy myself on the floor. Already, I've had customers return, asking for me; my enthusiasm for the product is as infectious as my enthusiasm for developing concepts alongside a client. It isn't "work" to share my experience with customers and help them find the best Thing for them.

I'm enjoying it; I simply don't want to do this forever.

And, I won't. It's only been a few weeks, and I've only been back in the country for three months. I strive to not count forward, and live in the moment as I do on the store floor. Anything can happen, day to day. I simply keep looking, working, putting out the word and trying to remain as positive as possible.

I believe I am sustained by some pretty powerful Love.