Not as Bad as I Thought.

I was in a cheery stupid braincandy-only mood the other day at the video store. It was going to be a beastly hot weekend and we knew it, so we were prepared to hole up in our apartment with lots of A/C, Coke Zero, and take-out bulgogi. Wandering through the stacks I discovered that that schmaltzy looking recent Latifah film Last Holiday was done by Wayne Wang, so I just had to see it. It looked like such a pat formulaic thing, what on earth was Wayne doing this one for?, I wondered. And I like Latifah anyway. She gives me hope for the world somehow. I liked her path upward through the ranks.

It was a pretty standard Hollywood film, but had some nice two-dimensionality to the characters, even the villains, that wouldn't have been there without Wang's direction, I suspect.

Afterward, I couldn't help but wonder what would I REALLY do if I knew I had only a few months or weeks to live?

Besides completely freak out, of course, which would definitely be very me.

I had recently had a discussion with a counselorperson who emphasized to me the importance of my reconnecting with the things that feed and inspire me -- he said I really don't realize how much I miss that connection to what used to inspire and and sustain, and I ought to get back to it. So I was thinking of this only having a few weeks to live in that kind of light. In a pretty much realistic, yet non-morbid light. More a what-would-be-important-to-me kind of light. What would I want to do?

Write wonderful letters to everyone. I'd write them letters about all the little items I'd be giving away. Tell them all the stories behind all the objects I own that someone else would now have, so they would carry the memories of those wonderful experiences with the objects, the same way I do.

Give my money away? I don't have that much, but of course I'd have to do that. I'd be sorry that I couldn't have made more to give more to those who needed it. Sorry I only was able to take care of me.

Go to China? sail down the Yangtze to Guilin? See all the cathedrals in France and sculpture in Italy and palaces in Germany and castles in Scotland? I've always wanted to do that, but .... there wouldn't be time. Would I want to do that at THAT point? When time was precious?

You know if I stopped right here, right now in life, I'd be so upset with God or fate or whatever. Because it would mean all my efforts at good had fallen through. I realize now I would want more time to make a difference to others. The good I've intended has gone much awry over the years. I would wish to have had a better chance at making others happy. To have had them better understand my intentions as well. I've been a bumbler with words, and stupidly unaware in some instances. I wish I'd been more awake to what others really needed.

I think I might feel a crushing need to pursue something that would remain beyond my life to make up for those things, as banal as that might seem.

I suppose I'd like to sing with a great band in front of a lot of people who would never have had a chance to see a great band otherwise --so at least the event memory might stay. I mean, if I were to sing for folks here in the Western World, they'd be all..... YAWN. I'm a good singer -- I'm nothing the Western World has not seen, at this point. But in some remote part of the World, maybe I'd be a star, who knows.

Maybe I could tape myself? I suppose. That was my first intention in life, being a singing star. Still wish that had happened. Of the regrets I have, I suppose that is the one I feel most helpless about, because I was really certain I could do well at it. I was completely confident about it and those around me validated it. I suppose I'd like to prove in some little way that I could still show the world I can really sing. Why? I don't know. Because I was so inspired TO sing, I suppose. Because when I heard music, all the gravity of the world fell still inside me. When I sang it, I felt like I could leave this planet, as if I could draw a thread of breath out of my being so needle-sharp and so cotton-strong that it could sew up all the loose ends in the world and make something all worn go right again. I have felt like that since I was three years old and first heard music. I knew it was my best tool.

Write a lot? I would definitely be doing that.

Paint? I can't paint for shit. But that might propel me to try because in times of stress I draw. Strangely I can't think of anything I'd want to manufacture or sculpt, as I used to. I have the memory of all those substances in my hands already.

Videotape myself dancing? because there's no memory of that, because I loved that and was good at it. Who would want that???

It's me wanting to be permanent. Why??? Why would I bother? Why would I still think I was put here on this planet (supposedly) for someone ELSE? Why wouldn't I want to go grab things for just me?

I guess because I've done a lot of that already. I don't find satisfaction in it anymore. I haven't travelled the whole world, but I've been across a few ponds. I've seen how different life can be for those with nothing, and for those with everything. I've seen a lot of the best of what the earth holds, in nature, in art, in kindness. I have truly appreciated and been grateful for everything I've ever gotten, none of it has been lost on me.

I only find validation in making art that is beautiful, sound that is inspiring, writing that evokes feeling in someone. It's for them. As far as my own life went, I did (or at least made great attempts at) pretty much what I planned on. Except for kids, but -- that can't be worried over. I had a great love, I had great disasters, I had some small fame, I had notoriety, freedom, a large amount of good health, sex, some beauty, some trials, some wonderful moments of achievement. A life.

In the end I would just wish I could fly in ALLL MY FRIENDS to see me. Because you know, I don't think many would come otherwise. They just couldn't afford it. They're all still struggling artists, most of them. I'd love to have one last giant reunion for all my friends, all expenses paid. I would put them... hm... where.... I think it would have to be in San Francisco. That's home. I think I would like to be surrounded by friends, and a lot of dogs, and pet rats, and song and dim sum, and just sail across the Bay a few times more and troop around the city together for a week in packs. That would be plenty. That would be great.

Really, I've had a pretty amazing life. Not bad.

Comments

[Scott]

1: Amen
2: For "needle-sharp and cotton-strong" alone, I would
be willing to generate money for the tickets to fly your friends in. Let me know if it becomes necessary ______ _____
(fill in with some clever Yiddish expression that means "God forbid") (use more than two words if necessary)