The title is my roundabout way of saying I’m totally dropping my titling scheme, which I know you don’t care about. I’ve decided this is a better medium to post random stories and ramblings, and some of them are not really things that I am against. I see no reason to limit a blog I already hardly use.
Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.
I wanted to talk about the shoot I worked yesterday at Eastern State Penitentiary, Pennsylvania’s only castle. I was a production assistant there, a job I landed through my work for Mystery Diagnosis. It was for a show called Paranormal Challenge, a spin-off of Travel Channel’s Ghost Adventures, where teams compete to find the most evidence of ghostly presence.
I didn’t get to play with any ghosts, because my job was to haul equipment out of the gigantic location, at great expense to life and limb. I am a pile of ache.
The good news was it was the most professional of all the professional sets I’ve worked, almost as organized and dedicated as the ones in school. We had walkies, catering, job titles, and a full crew, just like we used to have. It’s sad that the professional doesn’t usually match up to this, but the truth of the matter is that they run off of money, the bottom line, and therefore the bare minimum. In school we ran off of belief, of faith and dedication and love for the material. We loved what we did, we believed in the stories, it was a total thrill, way more than working with some frat boy who’s been on television ever could be.
Professional sets have taken a lot of the wonder out of me. I remember I used to feel giddy and excited and powerful when I heard (and especially when I called) “Action!” but now I just try not to scream.
I don’t know if it’s always been an illusion I’ve been feeding myself, that somewhere there are sets that again are fueled by faith and love for the material. I’ve always known it’s a business, and that doesn’t bother me, but why can’t art be a business? Why can’t film come from a place deeper than studio pockets.
I’ve been called an idealist, and I’m starting to realize why it isn’t always a compliment. Realize that a pessimist is just an idealist who notices trends. I wish I could turn off the part of me that chases, that dreams and wants and knows that I’m going to do something important some day, and just let the rest happen to me until then. I feel like I have two speeds; excited and disappointed, like an energetic dog that only runs into walls.
See, I have faith that things are going to be okay in the end, that everything serves a higher purpose, but I do not know if that purpose has anything to do with my satisfaction. I’m starting to worry that my part in the master plan is a little more subtle than I had hoped, that I might be a sacrifice rather than a martyr or a hero.
Anyway. That all kinda went downhill.
I don’t know why exactly my all my blog posts are total downers, but you know. So it goes.
Maybe when I catch my big break I’ll start posting boring things about how awesome everything is. I’ll probably also not write things then, so you won’t know.
If you love total downers, I wrote a novella! It’s about a small boy’s reality falling apart.
Let me know if you’d like to read it.
I’m interested in notes, because I’d like to publish it some day.