The L words of a generation

Love.

I found something out when I went to an open mic one night when I was lost in Austin. The thing that I found out was that they knew exactly why I was there. See, this room was filled with about 10 people and each one looked at me and knew on first glance why I was in that room. I knew that they knew about me, because each of their poems I wrote in my mind. It is like the saying that I stole from the first play I ever saw in New York.

“Shakespeare, like, stole all of my good ideas way before I was born.”

That was written in a play entitled “Red Light Winter” and was penned by Adam Rapp.

Anyway, the common theme of every poet and songwriter were two words that began with the “L” word. No, not lesbians. But, close. These words are not only linked by the same first letter, but because they have the same meaning to my generation.

Love.

And . . .

Loss.

It was a Monday evening and I had no idea what to do. I figured I would attempt writing so I went to what is becoming one of my favorite coffeeshops. It is located in central downtown with the shadow of the Capital to the North. This would mean that it is on Congress and named the Hideout. Not only is it a coffeeshop that has an open mic each evening, it has two theater stages in the rear that are utilized for plays and improv. It is like heaven for anyone creative; like me.

These two words have been kicked around my head and my lips for so long I cannot help being cliché with my meanings. But, I will say that the meanings have changed or evolved over time from my beginning ideals. See, I always thought that I would fall in Love and the rest would be history. I had this perfect plan for keeping a relationship, always agree and never fight with your partner. That way you will never have to worry about upsetting her.

The Hideout was my b ackdrop as I clicked on my computer. I put on my headphones in order to drown out the pollution. I looked at a blank screen and was hit by writer’s block. See, I had writer’s block for quite a while at this point as I understood nothing around me which meant that I had no idea what to write. Therefore, I clicked around a few websites, played a little chess and gave up on the writing process. This caused me to just about kill myself mentally. It is like you want to clean the house, but rather than cleaning you drank a six pack, ate a bag of cheetos and watched reality television for five hours. Try that on for size, then tell me how you feel that night when your significant other asks you how your day was?

That was my full-proof plan on a relationship. It was perfect except for the small detail of desire. See, desire will kick your ass sometimes. It is very important and without it you will end up never fulfilling any of those third grade dreams. But, it is also a killer when you desire more from everything in life that causes you to lose out on the beauty in front of you. See, this is the first time that these words are linked.

I did not write that evening. I did sit there for a few hours and listen to what other people wrote. There was a theme to the evening that I think was not planned, but is always understood when you are dealing with art. I know this from experience, that I make art when I am hurting. I do not write when I am happy. I do not write when I am settled. I have nothing to get out and nothing to release from my conscious. I think other artists are the same way when you look at their lives. You can look at a painter’s work and understand their exact emotion. I look at the work inside of my house and can tell exactly the mindset the artist had. Granted, it will not be exact, but I get a good sense of where he/she was in life and what he/she desired the piece to be. So, I was in this coffeeshop with a blank page in front of me, an iced tea in my hand and the words of my generation trying to fulfill the dreams of their parents in the air.

With Love comes pain. This is obvious. This is not obvious by looking at how Love is portrayed in life. But, it is obvious for anyone that has ever felt it. I think that the truest sense of Love is when you question if you have ever felt it. When this happens, you know that you have been in Love, because you are so hurt by what you are feeling now that you question how could anything so magical as Love cause so much pain? My answer to this is easy, as with anything in life, you get out what you put in. If you truly Love something or someone, it will murder your conscious when that Love fades and your heart becomes lost again. If you are keeping track at home, second time I mentioned the words together.

Each performer that took the stage walked up to the mic and looked out to the crowd. Each had the same look on their face. It was easy to understand that look when I first saw it as it is the look that I have when I finish a piece. It is the look of complete exhaustion. This look can be seen in a student after a test, in a parent after a discussion of sex with their child, with a lover when they tell their other that they cheated, on an athlete when he realizes that he has lost a step and on the deathbed when it is understood that the sand is almost gone.

I am not going to bring down the vibe you may be enjoying as you drink you coffee and read this. I am not going to be melodramatic and tell you why Love sucks. Shit, I try and Love everyday. I am a romantic that was born in the wrong era. I am the selfless nurturer that will battle through the worst in the name of Love. Yes, I feel like Bono from U2 as I foolishly link that singular emotion with dozens of actions. I will also not tell you that once you Love, you are set. What I will tell you is that, once you Love something, it has to change. You have to give it away. It cannot be kept otherwise it becomes a prison.

I do think that the sensitive ones become artists. I think this from the artists that I have known and the artist I am trying to become. As an artist, we simply express our emotions everyday through the medium that we choose. I write. Others paint. Others play instruments. Others don’t care. I am not saying that if you are not an artist, you feel nothing. What I do think is that as an artist it is this forever entrapment in purgatory. It is a purgatory of our emotions. See, it is never anyone else around us, but us. That is what we think. That is how we operate. An artist is in charge of everything that they understand and the world that is created within their mind is the world they live in. Within this world we are God and can make meaning to anything we encounter. When Love happens, this is a magical place that causes mooshy, melodramatic work to be produced. When hell breaks loose in this world, we get sappy, self loathing material that belongs on a Lifetime movie more so than on your computer screen.

Love is a prison because it traps you into never changing. The amount that I have changed this week is cause for a shake of the head at my actions the past month. But, with Love you cannot change. You cannot evolve by yourself as you will evolve right out of the life of the person in which you share this emotion. Therefore, an evolution must happen as a team effort. You have to compromise a portion of your soul to evolve and become an adult. You have to think globally about your being rather than just in the moment you are in. Understand, this is something that can and has been done. Many, many people reading this are in happy relationships and to them all the power in the world. But, for the rest of us, you are not alone.

Art has forever been a method of expression. I express myself through my art. I do consider this art and think that as the world progresses with invention so must we as humans. We must progress to understand that relationships will have ups and downs. That the worst parts are never that bad and the best parts are really that good. The memories of the Loved ones will forever change and the view on a relationship will only become clear decades down the road. Love everyone and be jealous of nothing. Be who you are and if the person that you Love cannot except that, then you are no longer in Love.

How can you always be in Love with someone when there are moments that you hate yourself? That statement was for me. I go through this life as an artist which is incredibly unsteady and is a moment to moment roller coaster. It is a life I choose and something I will never change. But, it does offer it’s peaks and valleys which I think is a metaphor for the greater portion of life itself. These things leave me hating myself one moment and feeding my ego the next. I ask myself this, if I hate myself in a given moment, what would I think of the person that loves the thing inside of me that I hate? Would I not then hate the person that loves me when I am loathing toward my existence? Yes, this is the shit I do think about on a daily basis.

I am a misplaced romantic that will forever be loyal to the one that I make myself fall in Love with. Love is not something that happens by accident and erupts in your heart when you are looking for it. It is something that is always in the air, you just have to open yourself to it. Never think that the one of your dreams is gone forever, but rest assured that it is just around the one corner you have yet to find. Be complete on your own and Love will follow itself right next to a full heart. Remember, if you live on the edge of the society there are bound to be moments when you fall off and the ground can be lost for a very long time.

Moral: The Hideout is a very kick ass place and should be visited often. Love is something that is cliché but deserved by those courageous enough to try. Go forward looking at the person you do Love and think of how lucky you are to share any of your life with them J See, I told you could finish it happy!