So I've been packing, deciding what things will accompany me on tour, and then back to NYC. Which things can stand to live under the stairs in my parents basement for a few more years till I settle down. Which things can go away forever to strangers at the salvation army.
I feel really lucky that I get to do this. I like being able to choose what I get to lose. Of course, this isn't always the way it works is it. Sometimes, other people get to choose for us. I have been blamed for many things but never those are hurtful as ruining things I believed in more than I ever believed in myself. I only have the best intentions for everyone in my life, always. I am a really strong person, some man in some suit that controls peoples records said that "I know how to make boys fall for me". That is sort of funny. I wonder if that really is my talent then how exactly it comes to be that I am the one who is alone? I am a strong character, I get that. I know what I want, I am somewhat of a control freak. I find it weird that people could ever think that someone like me with maybe one of the most insane work ethics around could ever make someone else lose focus. I guess I do not see that. It's ok. I am better off alone. Thanks for trying, it was fun, a little too close to home perhaps, and it made me realize that, my heart knows how to feel. It is still working somewhere in there. This will be just another chapter in my never ending set of journals and collections of random things that remind me of something memorable. I guess when I am lonely at night I will just snuggle up with these journals. Try not to get any paper cuts.
I sat up scanning some of these, in case I never see them again so that I could always remember them.
This is a picture I carry in my wallet. This is me, in ballet school at age 8. You will notice that I was about 4 inches taller than everyone even then. I also refused to wear the proper ballet clothes to class. I wanted to wear my "people of the world skirt" this skirt has little people from all over the world in it's pattern. I have always kept this with me because it reminds me that since I can remember, I have been weird, have not fit in, and have had a different outlook on life then the rest of the universe. That is okay to just be that way. I have always been like this.
A couple of years ago a guy gave me some mittens for xmas. It was the only time I have ever spent Christmas in NYC and at home and not in a random hotel room on some tour. I had a tree. We went ice skating in central park. It was snowing, and I had it all. My favorite city, my favorite season, and all that. Funny how things, and mittens seem to unravel with time.
A few years before that I was rehearsing for Rockettes and an old friend had come thru my town, I was in love with him, still, but he didn't know it. I didn't know it but at the time he was about to admitted into rehab and would come out shiny, new and pristine. At the time when he looked me in the eyes with yellow eyeballs, shaking hands and a green face from the booze and drugs and told me "Kelts. You gonna know about Jeff Buckley" and wrote this on this napkin I was completely unaware that Jeff Buckley would change my life, almost as drastically as the writer did. More than the record title is the reminder that, people in life are only as bad as you let them be. That walking away gracefully is so important. I haven't learned to do that yet. Or maybe I just did.
I like to make lists. I make them almost everyday. Some of them are for only a day, and others are for weeks and months into the future. I found this in the front of an old journal. Life list. Only one thing is crossed off. Sadly. I am almost about to cross off writing a book. I can play the UKE- although I don't know if I do that "well". The rest of these things are yet to be done. Do you make lists? I have this obsession with religions. I want to know all about them all. I also heard they are closing the pyramids to the public so I really need to get over there to climb before they do. I did learn how to say something is Spanish, but it is of course, inappropriate. I have added a few things to this list. I mostly will never, ever skydive. Ever.
I have a few steps I go through each time my heart aches. First, I read through old journals, I survived then, I will now. Then I got on the websites of all the dance agents in NYC and I look at all the things everyone has been doing and I get really fired up. I mean, REALLY fired up. Then I want it all, all of it, really badly all over and I feel so stupid for getting distracted with things that never seem to make sense. Then I get my ass to work.
packing. peeping. flying to NYC. meeting with agent. dinner with director. loving loftiss. sleeping. auditioning. flying back. Peeping. all in 30 hours. WERK.