I have been officially published in a magazine. I was paid for my services as a writer and I couldn't be anymore proud of myself for accomplishing that. It's my first step into the competitive world of journalism.
But there are a few things on my mind. For one, I don't have my family or anyone else really for that matter to share my accomplishment with.
I told my friends about it, but they're not as enthusiastic about it as I am or as I hoped for them to be. I realize that I have alienated myself from people at school because of my personality and to a certain extent my behavior. Even though I should be on cloud nine because not only did I land my first paying job, but I'm also contributing to another local publication, the school news paper and three blogs (including my own) all while still trying to keep up with my math and psychology class.
I'm always behind on something and I'm always busy doing something, yet, I still feel like crap. I'm grateful for the opportunities coming my way and for the friends who have helped me get to this point, but deep down I just feel alone and left out. I don't have anyone to talk to or share my thoughts with because I'm just too abstract and unorthodox with my ideas.
My behavior maybe to some extent me wanting attention, but obviously it's the wrong kind of attention because others don't take me seriously or respect me anymore. I could careless what someone thinks about me, but those who have those opinions of me are the ones passing me up and leaving me behind because they know how to follow orders and obey the teacher without question.
Anyway, the thing that bugs me is again this solitude that I either impose on myself or it just happens that way. I don't feel comfortable at my friends house because I have no personal space of my own. For the last year I've been sleeping on the floor, which I don't mind. Its just that when I get to the house from school or work I can't do anything. I can't even sit on the couch because my friend has his stuff on it or watch tv because he's playing video games on it. I know this is all his stuff, but after a year of that on a daily basis, I've had enough.
I would rather get back to the house late or g walk my dog because I don't want to deal with their trifle idiotic antics. I just want a space of my own to be able to do what I want when I want. Hell, one of the biggest reasons I'm part of the school news paper is because I get to have a computer all to myself with a cubicle. That space becomes my life because I'm just wondering around everywhere.
I can handle and deal with this instability, but sometimes it's just too much and like all my other problems, I just don't want to deal with them like I should. Of course I could just quit school and work full time, but that's not the answer to anything. I just wish that it wasn't so hard for me to make ends meat and to survive, but then again, I have a much better quality of life than other people in other places.
But this is where it gets interesting. You see back in March 24, 07, I set out on the current path I'm in right now. In that month I made my choice to leave the nest egg and to try to make it own my own here in L.A. after my parents moved to another state. I can back to make something of myself, to continue my schooling and to take care of my Harley.
However, I'll never forget what happened on that faithful day. On that day, I did work son. I got word that Cheech Marin was going to have his chicano art collection on display at the Pico House in Olvera St. I also found out about another show happening the same night titled "because i can't be beethoven." The show was a performance art piece in which a frozen piano was going to be destroyed and demolished in one evening.
Well here's the funny part that trips me out, at the cheech show, two things ended up happening. I was exposed to one of the greatest art movements I have ever seen. What I saw in those paintings, I lived through and it hit home. I was star struck by the imagery. While at the exhibit, a woman came up to me and inquired about my skateboard. She gave me her card and told me she was with the firm that represented Cheech and his collection. I told her I was a journalism student and she even offered to try to get me an interview with Cheech, sadly I never did anything about and forgot about it.
After the Cheech show, I made my way to the piano smashing and had a blast just kicking back watching one man take out his frustrations out on a piano with a blow torch. It was a nigh I would never forget not just because of what I experienced, but because it set me up for the future. That initial show and one other show featuring Mike the Poet pt me on the track that I'm in now. I began to attend art gallery openings on a weekly basis, learning new things and expanding my world.
I've never stopped going to galleries and now I even write about them, the art and the people behind them. But here's the clincher. Going in a full circle, my first published story was made in part with the help of a friend mentioning my name to the magazine publisher. We talked and I agreed to write for his magazine. Turns out that the lady I met at the Cheech show in 07 was the one I had to contact in order to get the contact info for the person I needed to interview.
Crazy shit huh ? I still can't believe how that happened, why it happened or why me. I'm just thankful that God gave me that opportunity not once, but twice. I still can't believe that I set up my life to be what it is now by just doing what I do best, meeting new people, enjoying some great art and skating around L.A. It's a small world after all.