February 24th, 2010
Today is my blog’s Bicentennial, the 200th entry of my 365 day writing challenge of cosmic angst through the eyes of comedic insight. I feel that I should mark the significance of this event and take some type of celebratory action. However, when I think of the word Bicentennial, only images of poorly acted and costumed Revolutionary War Reenactments come to mind. I can’t do that to my blog. To you. To me.
The word that keeps coming to my head after 200 days is commitment. I’m my toughest critic and wouldn’t dare talk to someone the way that I talk to myself at times. I have chosen the comedic path for the past thirteen years. I am able to give myself an internal high five and tell myself that if I didn’t have any talent that I would have given it up a long time ago. The bright and harsh reality is that I chose a road that offers us creative type’s exhilaration or gut wrenching uncertainly. Seldom anything in between. I chose it. It chose me. I’ll be riding this wave my entire life because, as I’ve written before...it’s my life-force.
My challenge is that I am surrounded by loved ones who live a much more conventional lifestyle that provides them, above all, security. Although they recognize my talent, I am a thinly veiled artist who tends to absorb their anxiety. Their concern is well intended but I have to make a conscious effort to not let this ignite fear in my life’s direction.
Sometimes I wonder if I’ve spread myself thin by being involved in so many aspects of comedy (improv, sketch, stand up, hosting, writing, and teaching.) Many comics just hone in on one of these outlets but I’m intrigued by how comedy, as a whole, entertains, heals and taps into so many arenas. One of the reasons that I decided to commit to a yearlong blog project was so I could have a place for all my ideas to live. Not only do I feel that I’m creating a portfolio, but the process is showing me that I have found a way to encompass every facet of comedy that I’ve been dissecting since my early 20’s. Or probably my entire life. I feel that’s unique. It’s certainly cathartic.
I need to trust that security will follow soon. But it’s up to me to see it. To feel it. To create it. Fear is a real dick and I won’t let it into space, debilitate me and win. Then the terrorists win. Or something like that.
Thanks for listening guys. And not interrupting. I’m going to speak to myself kindly and praise myself for sticking with this blog, my artistry and my heart. OK. we should celebrate. Come join me as I light fireworks. In my living room.