Fame

What was your dream?
Go on. Courage. You can say it (that's what the little comment box is for).

I wanted to be an actor.

Saw both versions of "Fame". There are no doubt countless articles comparing the two. I'll start by saying the most recent version lacked the guts of its predecessor, but that may be because our generation lacks the same.

What was your dream?

Most if not all of us had or have one. We are the generation of artists as John Adams put it:

"I must study politics and war that my sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy. My sons ought to study mathematics and philosophy, geography, natural history, naval architecture, navigation, commerce and agriculture in order to give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry, and porcelain." 1

With entitlement comes complacency, and until realized I'm a believer that dreams don't die. They recede into some other part of us and fester in a muffled scream. We find other avenues. We convince ourselves otherwise. We imagine other things are more important, and maybe they are.

There's something inherently childish in being an artist, isn't there? We're demanding, or at least our art is. We're fickle. We can be flaky, outspoken, tantrum-prone, egotistical, and self-centered. We lie well. So why keep us around at all?

Certainly there's been debate on the issue. Actors were thought little better than whores in Elizabethan days, relegated to the shit-caked outskirts of London-town. We're often considered aimless, unreliable, and poor. But society makes provisions to train yet more of us. So what is the secret? Why do we persist?

Because the world needs us.

While we can be all of the ill-manned nature of things listed above artists are also inspiring, humorous, intelligent, progressive, and painfully truthful. And that truth has been sought after since the moments when caves were painted on. When the etchings of a sharp rock, and the stain of berries or animal blood was taken for something sacred, taken for a version of truth with powers beyond immediate comprehension.

Art has the ability to illuminate, transcend, and transform reality. Artists provide that vessel.

The danger of what the newest incarnation of "Fame" presents is a version of "artist" as a single entity in an "X-Factor" machine. Plug in equal parts attractiveness, talent, and "je-ne-sais-quoi" and pump out a temporary star. The star persists if per chance they have something to say.

So let's get back to that question. What was your dream?

Why did you stop? Why did you become an accountant, a lawyer, a librarian, a doctor, a waiter, a vagrant? (Threw in the last one to make sure you were listening, because to be honest, if you're a vagrant and reading this I commend you on your recovery of status or your crafty use of a public library between dumpster dives).

I stopped because I believed I was better than the system. I stopped because I believed I was above cattle calls, above casting sessions, above the general struggle and because I was tired of waiting in that isolated state for the world to take notice.

I stopped, retreated, and buried the dream in Boston.

What brought me back was a trip to visit artists I knew in New York. I saw in each of them their dreams still alive. I saw in each of them a willingness to struggle, an urge to succeed, a belief that there existed in that moment no other option but to pursue relentlessly. Their hunger rekindled my own, and I returned, and I acted (though hardly in a headshot-handing-out sort of way), and I made things, and I make them still. All of this a modified version of my original dream.

Some of those artists have let go. They've moved away. They've released their dream, tucked it away, and embraced another. Families. Marriages. Homes in suburbia and a beautiful life that would be smudged on New York streets. And they're happy, and they're secure, and that's a wonderful thing.

But for the rest of us... Where do we go from here?

You remember what you said below? What you put in that little box? How close are you to that dream? And how do you know you won't go mad in the pursuit? How do you know that someone or something won't sweep you off your feet before you get there? You don't.

Says Montgomery (Paul McCrane) in the original film:

"What do you want, insurance? You're in the wrong business. We're pie-in-the-face people, remember?"

Maybe it's our willingness to fail that brings us closer to the dream. After all, if we are caught staring blindly at success, it might overwhelm us, paralyze us to the point of doing nothing. Make us retreat and think about swimming in a smaller pond.

What's wrong with the smaller pond? Nothing.

What's wrong with your dream? Nothing, so long as you give it a chance.

So... did you?








1. http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002305.html