On Legacy (To a Degree)

I took a few hours this morning to read though my Grandma's collected works of poetry. There was nobody else in the house save for our cat and the dog we're babysitting until tomorrow, so I just sat in the sun room with a pot of tea and dove into her incredible words.

Throughout this emotional handful of hours I kept finding myself looking up from her book, breathing back stray tears, and smiling. It felt like we were having a conversation. She was discussing topics we'd touched on all too rarely--and her words were just...right. She talked of legacies and lives and not-quite-infinites and completely infinites. She said so much in so little and reminded me, reminded me here and now, where I came from.

All too often I find myself getting smug. Afflicted with the disease of modernity, I smirk in the mirror and pat myself on the back for knowing so much. In the same instant, a chill runs down my spine and I have no idea why.

In reality, it's the fear that I've forgotten everything. That the world just appeared earlier today and I have to hit the ground running. I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing because the heroes in my childhood stories were blood relatives and the monsters were human-shaped and everyone seems to have forgotten about our beautiful, ragged past. I bet Dorothy wakes up in cold sweats sometimes, scrambling for her ruby slippers.

It's easy to get lonely here with no family nearby and friends that have only known the most recent version of me. It's easy to try to forget where I came from and what I came from. But why? Why should I forget what I've fought for?

Today, I am feeling grounded, and humble, and grateful.

Thanks, Grandma. I love you.

Dakotah

I Don't Think I Want It

This Post's Soundtrack

Despite teaching at a childrens' hospital, rehearsing a clown piece for a local cabaret, and working on two plays (a Jabberwocky adaptation and a one person show) I've been phenomenal about telling myself I'm not actually up to anything. This has been another running theme for me in the continuing adventures of "Trying to navigate my late twenties." I'm certain it's another hamstringing mythology I keep intact for the sake of survival. So let's examine it, shall we? Sure, yeah. Time to get forthcoming.

Of course I'm marginally proud of my successes, that's without question. Even so, I typically chalk those successes up to being at the right place at the right time. The world, the universe, energy, etc--now THAT'S what went right. Nothing I did. When I turn my eyes inward, I don't see a heap of things to be proud of. More often than not, I focus on all the judgments and the 'wrongs'. I see a series of missteps with a handful of flukes thrown in for good measure. Why, though? Why do I continue to keep this up? Why do others do this? What the EFF, mang?

I'm lonely in a crowd. Considering that my mom was a single working mother who HAD to spend hours upon hours at work in order to support two children, my brother and I typically didn't see her until the evenings. On weekdays this meant coming home from school and playing outside with a buddy or parking in front of the Nintendo for a few hours until our Mom came home. I'd begun to develop this idea that I was more or less a Free Agent. I could do what I wanted, a freedom I was not used to at the time (I was seven or so,) but this also meant I was on my own if there was a crisis of some kind. For example, as children my brother and I spent a TON of time in the break room at Bookshop Santa Cruz, as we would go to work with our Mom on weekends. One day, we were in the stock room attempting to copy the SWEET MARTIAL ARTS MOVES from a favorite game. So mid spin-kick, I stumbled over my feet and fell into a pile of halogen lights with a raucous crash. I was horrified. I had no idea what to do. I was sitting there crying in a pile of broken glass and powder. After a few terrified moments, my mother and some other staffers poured into the stock room to see what had happened. I was fine, but wildly embarrassed and fairly scared I'd be...like...prosecuted for breaking a ton of lights. To my surprise, everyone was just making sure I was okay. They didn't really care about the lights. I couldn't understand that. I thought this was MY problem, and I'D have to fix it. As a matter of fact, I still find it hard to believe that people have my back or honestly care about my wellbeing.

This sense of being alone--or better yet--the sense that I'm not even really there has stuck around like an unfortunate growth for years upon years. As I got older, I unconsciously tempered it into a sense of being 'different'. I knew I'd had a separate experience of life than others, but instead of allowing that to bring me closer to people, ALL of which have had different life experiences, I used it as something to hide behind. I didn't allow people in because it let me keep the 'upper hand' of being strange. I never knew that I was actually the one losing out. In reality, I didn't trust other people to understand where I was coming from, or what I felt, or...really...the first thing about me. I never considered myself a worthwhile player in my life, or anyone else's. It really didn't MATTER what the Free Agent did. I figured I'd slip through the cracks and not be counted in the end anyway, so what was the use? Really? Things just HAPPEN.

They just happen.

Wait-

No, that's not right.

I thought the state of the world was 'powerlessness in the face of overwhelming chaos' and I was a genius for being the only one who knew. For being on the inside. Only much later did I realize how untrue that was--but part of the damage had been done. And it's still there. "If the world is unpredictable chaos, then I'm going to hang back and rely on things I can DO. Places where I can still express some remote agency. I'll gather together a handful of comforts and be satisfied with them until someone discovers my hiding spot."

UGH. Just...ew.

I don't know how many others have felt this way, but it's really not fun. You end up disliking alot of people and rolling your eyes at the world. You cross your arms and stamp your feet, whining about how the NORMIES don't realize how messed up the world REALLY is. You complain about how nobody seems to truly grip their insignificance, and your prize is the most brittle sense of invincibility one can manage. Yes, hiding was a deep survival instinct for me. It was necessary. With the kidnapping, my upbringing had a brand of danger that some other folks haven't experienced. It's unfortunate that it took place at such a formative time for me...but like other folks my age, I'm now in a place where I can look at the why aspect of who I am. And hopefully while I'm at it, I can do some good.

So, to anyone who has felt the way I do--I encourage you to give the world another chance. If you think you KNOW something, dig deeper. Think harder. Get up. See who you are NOW, because that changes every single instant. Experience beats assumption EVERY TIME. Why not try some experiments? I guarantee you, your limits have only expanded. You're a wealth of life, don't wait for permission to express that. Allow yourself to accept your own good. Obsessing over your failures will make you repeat them. Being authentic will make you fly. Accept the well of power that you have.

Why?

Because it's fucking unlimited.

Much love--and I've got your back,

Dak

OH SNAP, WE GOT SOME BULLET POINTS?

•  Just...just do yourself a favor and read this. I love discussions that folks aren't normally willing to have. Especially conversations about my favorite subject.
• DmC. The new Devil May Cry game? Okay, so it's totally polarizing fans. I have to write about this sometime.
•  WALKING DEAD WALKING DEAD WALKING DEEEAAARRRGGGGHHHHH 

 

Whoops...Dropped the Beat.

I don't consider myself musically inclined. I play around on the guitar a bit, though I'm pretty spotty. I can bang out some chords and follow rhythm, but that's the extent of my playing. Even so, it hasn't stopped me from messing around in the music realm--or doofing around with Acoustica Mixcraft. That said, I present to you some music I made!

If it all sounds pretty videogamey, it's because I specifically made these tracks to use with the games I make ever so often. So BOOM. HERE WE GO, BRO.  (Also, if for some reason you're really into any of these tracks, feel free to download em'. I'm pretty sure I made that an option.)

In case you're wondering, the official title to that one is 'Crappy Punk Song'. I tried to mimic anime intros as best as possible to make a 'General Upbeat Intro Theme'.

That's theme music I made for a character I came up with. It ends abruptly since it'll be playing in a loop once I import it into my game-makin' software.

So this track will serve as general background music for the more hallowed stages of the game.

Okay, so this is the battle music for said game. I thought it'd be fun to make it kinda' surf rock-ish. Most games aren't going to sound like this, so I figured it be interesting to make it a kind of centerpiece (you tend to hear battle music once every goddamn 2 seconds). Also, it's my current phone ringtone. This one also cuts off in the interest of looping the fight music.

And finally, here's the theme music for yet another character. Incidentally, his design is something I've been doodling since I was a teen. Oddly enough, now that I've got a theme song for him, I can really see who the character is.

Hey, so there you have it! I'm really diggin' this music program, but the downside may be pretty evident. Since it doesn't actually require much in the way of musicianship, the songs start to sound samey after a while. Couple that with a limited (yet enormous) number of instrumental loops, and you'll eventually hit a tipping point. The next logical step would be to...well...to get better at making music or dedicate myself to the piano for a while.

That's all for now! Ta-tas!

Love,

Dak

OH WAIT NO, P.S. BULLET POINTS

•  Went to a morning Suzuki practice at an Aikido dojo today. HOLY CRAP IT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN MISSING AND IT WAS FREE AND INCREDIBLE AND OH GOD NO MORE STOMPING PLEASE.
• I'm trying to decide whether my November project is going to be a one person show, a full-length play, a series of short plays, a novel, a game, or a graphic novel of some kind. Or...y'know...procrastination.
• I've been teaching at the pediatrics center at a local hospital with some colleagues recently and I pretty much love every moment of it. Well...I guess we've only had one class thus far...but STILL! Awesome. 

Black in Action

This post's soundtrack is...

 

Long time no post and so forth! That song, by the by, is by The Negro Problem, one of my favorite bands. I've recently gone into their discography a bit more and found gems like that. RIGHT? Yeah.

So, UPDATES. It's difficult to remember everything that's happened since the previous post (and, frankly, it's been a LOT.) I'll hit you with a few.

Wrapped up the season a few months ago. Fun stuff, as usual. Put The Basement Company up at the Linen Building. Taught a 6 week clowning course dealie at a charter school, co-wrote a childrens' play with some buddies and had a public reading. I think things are pretty promising as far as that goes. Filmed a short with some AWESOME local filmmakers. Currently performing in a horror-themed puppet show that my buddy wrote.

Whew...yeah, so there's that!

Outside of stage stuff, it's been...well it's been a bit of a rollercoaster. As you may have noticed, the general theme of many of these entries has been about trying to change things about myself. In that introspection, I've examined a lot of aspects of myself that I've been ignoring for a long time. Things like my tendency toward panic, my propensity to go along with anything people say with little discretion, and the notion that I'm probably going to die before I hit 30. I KNOW. I'm not saying these are well-founded or even based entirely in reality, but these ideas (and many other self-destructive 'truths') have been a part of me for a ridiculously long time. So much so that I barely notice myself leaning toward those thoughts until it's too late. At least that's how it was for a very long time. I bought into my mythology of unworthiness because I thought that's how I was supposed to feel. It also tended to make people more comfortable when I adopted that attitude.

OR SO I THOUGHT.

Turns out it just attracted me to people who were willing to go along with it. And I obliged. Happily!

So now comes the hard part of...well...basically eschewing some deeply-ingrained survival instincts.

No big, right? Let's give it a shot.

BE GOOD, CATS!

Lurve,

Dak

BULLET POOOOINTS!

• If you're not listening to Azealia Banks, you're doing yourself a disservice.
• Went to Ashland to see some OSF shows! Animal Crackers and Troilus And Cressida were incredible. Medea Macbeth Cinderella missed the mark, but was still interesting to watch.
• I'm teaching at a Childrens' Hospital now, too! Woo!
• Also I'm back at the Pretty Good-Smelling Lady Store.
• The last book I actually finished was no longer than 200 pages. I'm going to read some more.
• NaNoWriMo, yeah? YEAH? YEAH!??

WD-40

Ah jeez, this thing became a creaky rusted bike for a while didn't it?

It's half an hour before I jump into rehearsals for The Winter's Tale. It's my second production of this show (already? weird) and I'm having a blast working with an enormous group of kind, talented folks. Also, my summer has been completely and utterly insane.

Big ol' huge news to follow, but I'll get into that when I have time to tell the entire tale. For now I just wanted to mention that I'm still alive and well...and undergoing an interesting mental shift. As I've mentioned time and again, I have a tendency to live beneath the wants and whims of others. Command me with enough force and I'll just to the chance to please you, no matter what. I'll be trailing behind at a distance, because that's what I thought I deserved. Unworthiness is an insidious beast that gets into your nervous system and cripples you from the inside out. I have several friends who seem to be fighting themselves more than anything else. The ones with a self-imposed structure of some kind are busy and happy, while those of us living piecemeal seem a little skittish yet hopeful. The friends of mine with big, open eyes are daunted by what they see. Those who squint through life seem pretty okay with things. Now this rule isn't hard and fast by any means, of course...it's just a general observation.

After gulping down some amazing words (courtesy of Imagine by Jonah Lehrer and Steal Like an Artist by Austin Kleon) I have a sudden urge to take myself less seriously and really be alright with looking like a moron. I mean I AM. I'm great at it--but it's an easy kind of looking stupid. I like looking dumb on my own terms, just like the hipsters that crown to dance floor to sarcastically emulate the flailing limbs of the crowd who is really into it, man. But that's me. I'm the spaz in the middle of the room, headbanging with short hair and busting out air-guitar solos. The fact of the matter is, you don't need your favorite song to make that okay. In the real world, you don't have to wait for the starting pistol. You can just sprint out of the gate. You're allowed.

Let me rephrase that-

I'M allowed.

To be continued of course.

Love,
Dak

HEY MANG, YOU WANT SOME BULLET POINTS?

• The standup comedy scene here in town is on the up-and-up. Saw a show last night and haven't laughed that hard for that long in a WHILE.
• Games I'm playing: Breath of Fire 4 (finally caught up to where I was when I last played it a decade or so ago.) Fallout: New Vegas (old, yeah, but one I haven't beaten yet.) Persona 4 (same story here.)
• Went camping, got into nature, but didn't get a vacation from my brain, que sera.
• Redesigned an old comic of mine. Totally masturbatory side-project, but still SO MUCH FUN.
• Less masturbatory side projects include: Jabberwocky (children's play written by some buddies and I), Converting my dungeon apartment into an art space, 3 other plays on the docket (4 Loves, Flyboy, and an as-yet unnamed piece about the apocolypse), actual masturbating, Viewpoints-inspired production of Woyzeck.

You're Not Your Crap

My life hasn't been characterized by failure, but boy is it easy for me to go there.

When your base assumption of Who You Are is like mine, very simple aspects of life become incredibly difficult.  For example, my tendency was to assume I was a generally crappy person--so as mentioned in previous entries, any success feels like a fluke and any failure seems like it's perfectly in keeping with my character.  This mode of thinking forced me to work really hard in order to maintain a sense of treading water.  If I did well in school, relationships, etc...it was only a smokescreen to hide my true nature.  That was the thought, at least.

But seriously?  Seriously?  That form of fear-based living has done NOTHING to truly serve me.  If anything, it gave me a strong sense of forboding.  It made me feel like a spy that managed to sneak into a high-society party.  My personality felt like a front to hide the fact that I'm actually here to do ill.  I could navigate social circles, sure, but my true intention was to collect intel and quietly poison the guest of honor.  'Cuz that's what I do.  I eff stuff up.  I felt like a disaster waiting to happen.  Sure I wore a tailored suit and spoke in suave circles, but my real comfort lay in confusion and negativity.

When I say 'comfort' I don't necessarily mean the crappy times have been great, but I know how to act during crappy times.  Crappy times are awesome!  You get to complain to people about how awful and difficult your life is!  Nobody respects a pity party, but you'll definitely get an attendance.  On top of that, people are proud of you when you get through it, and you get the ego victory of having overcome circumstances that were completely against you.

This was a pattern of mine.  A pattern I didn't realize existed because I took it to be the reality.  Of course I suck!  Look at my high school grades!  Look at my failed relationships!  Look at how flaky I am!  That's got to mean something!

However, we aren't our crap.  We aren't our failures.  Characterizing ourselves by what we haven't done only leads us to do even less.  Doing that is switching the difficulty to easy mode and ducking out of life.  When it comes down to it, our lives are infinitely more complex and objective than that.  On top of this, we're all allowed to internalize our successes and be happy about them.  This is NEW to me.  For serious.

Failures are a necessary step toward success, so why shackle yourself with your near-victories?  Who looks at a bowl of batter and laments the fact that it isn't a cake?  Not anyone I'd like to hang out with, that's for certain.

And now, to conclude--

BULLET POINTS!!

•  Started rehearsals for Romeo and Juliet.  Thus far, I take a serious beat-down, drunkenly check out HOT CAPULET CHICKZZ at the ball, and laugh insanely at Mercutio's antics (the actor playing him, by the way, is AMAZING.)
• The Earthbound post got a bigger response than I expected!  Awesome!  I'd like to do some more in-depth analyses of games.  Would you be down with that?  Currently topics on the docket: Where Final Fantasy went wrong and what Squeenix can do to save the series, Wild Arms 2's awful translation and how it crippled the narrative--coupled with how a solid localization can make a good game a GREAT game, the Meta-teachings of games (i.e. finding exploits, grinding in RPGs, 'breaking' games, and how the games themselves encourage us to do this), What theater has taught me about creating a good character and how games can take some lessons from one of the oldest artforms in history.
• The Extra Special Lady Friend and I are doing fabulous.  I spend most of my time with her wondering if someone this awesome actually exists, or if she's just a mental construct I've created.  The former is nicer, but the latter makes a better M Night Shyamalan movie.
• ZOMG I need to take more pictures.  This post feels lacking.

That'll do it for now, folks!  You're all awesome!  Live happy, and I'll do the same!

Love love love,
Dak

Why you should play Earthbound

(Many of my friends would shake their heads at such a blog topic, namely because they're already huge fans of Earthbound and know exactly why it is they should play it.  Those of you who know it, join my nostalgic trip.  Those who don't, either enjoy or bear with me.)

Back in 1995, Earthbound was released for the Super Nintendo to a relatively lukewarm response.  Personally, I'd been following the game for about a year before it came out and when I got it for Christmas, I was thrilled.  I popped the thing in (I was allowed to play for half an hour before bed, it was a school night after all) and here's what I saw:

Bear in mind that up until that point, most of the games I'd played (especially in the Role Playing genre) had been populated by blue-haired anime-inspired heroes with capes and swords and bad dialogue.  Your party generally consisted of Heroguy McSwordface, Loveinterest W. Curespells, Bigsilent Heartofgold, and Secretvillain Evilbutt.  Earthbound had...buses?  And the main character is just some kid?  What?  Whaaat?


So why should you play Earthbound anyway?  Why should you dig up an 18 year old game and dive in when there are so many successful contemporary titles?  On top of that, how the hell does Earthbound still find its way onto so many "Best Games of All Time" lists?  Well, let's take a gander...

Firstly, from the moment you begin the game, you become instantly immersed in its world.   In the initial moments of gameplay, you're tasked with providing names for everything from the main characters to your favorite food.  Most games at the time would allow you to name a single main character, or name other allies as they joined you.  The designers wanted you to have a familiarity with specific aspects of the game before the first screen even popped up.  This way, when you meet new characters, you feel as though you've almost met them before.  When your mom offers you some 'favorite food', there's an undeniable sense of home and familiarity.  Unless...I guess...your favorite food is 'POOP' or 'HUMAN'.  In fact, you're asked to name a 'Coolest Thing' (the default is 'Rockin', but you can write whatever you want) which later becomes one of your strongest spells.  It's as if you came up with it yourself OH WAIT YOU DID.  Before the game officially even starts, it goes out of its way to make the experience more personal, despite being relatively narrative-driven.  This is where Earthbound really shines.  The secret is in the little details that you don't even notice while you're playing.

Once the game begins in earnest, you start to see what makes this particular little title a gem.  At a time when developers were trying to squeeze as much graphical fidelity out of the 16 bit Super Nintendo (after all, 32 bit platforms like the Sega Saturn were on the rise) Earthbound came around with its endearing cartoon style that resembled a tongue-in-cheek version of the Peanuts gang.  On top of that, it takes place in modern day America....well...they call it 'Eagleland' so come on.  In fact, the writer and director of the game--Shigesato Itoi--is basically the Japanese David Sedaris, so seeing the country through the lens of a foreign humor columnist is brilliant. While it's contemporaries were pushing forward with aesthetics, granted with spectacular results, Earthbound ropes you in with pure and utter charm.  It's cute, funny, and pulls at your heartstrings.

Throughout the adventure, the ally characters are constantly reassuring you that you can do this, while every single enemy--from the first ten minutes of the game on--is telling you that you don't stand a chance.  I'll try not to spoil much, but one of the beauties of Earthbound is that you know your enemy from the first time you pick up the controller.  Giygas, a highly powerful transdimensional alien from the future, is ALWAYS TRYING TO KILL YOU.  The main characters can't go an hour without hearing mention of Giygas's influence and power.  This reiteration adds an incredible sense of presence, immediacy, and danger to every single thing you do.  It forces you to take a pause and wonder if your impossible goal is even more impossible than you think.  After all, you're a group of teenage kids equipped with baseball bats, pop guns, and frying pans.  Slowly but surely however, you begin to trust in your own abilities as your characters become stronger and the enemies become more ferocious.  This tightrope act continues right up until the last moments of the game.  Any task you accomplish feels like one part courage, one part skill, and three parts miraculous luck.


But how does the game PLAY?  Well considering that it's a top-down(ish) view role playing game, a lot of it is standard fare.  Go here, kill them, find this, etc.  The WAY the game accomplishes these things bears mention, though.  Games SIMILAR to Earthbound did not seem to put much thought into the bare-bones aspects of the genre.  Many companies took for granted the fact that, as gamers, we had come to expect certain things from these kinds of games.  You kill an enemy?  They drop cash.  The main character will fight with a sword, and the second character on your team will be a female love-interest with healing abilities.

Not even close.

The main character is the healer.  The second character on your team is the love-interest, yes...but she also has the most powerful offensive magic in the game. This makes the main character feel much more like a caretaker, the responsible leader that's letting the others down if they get hurt in battle.  And enemies dropping cash?  Nope.  They may drop items at the end of a fight, but you have to use in-game telephones to call your father (who never actually appears in game due to his work schedule.) Your father in turn deposits money into your bank account and you make withdrawals from in-game ATMs.

Play the game.  This hat will make sense.

Travel from place to place?  Most games at the time featured an overworld map screen to make travel simpler and to make the world feel less dauntingly huge.  Earthbound makes you take the bus.

Or walk.

Or...well...I won't spoil the rest.

On top of that, each area in the game is connected to the others.  You never see a map screen, so the world itself feels enormous.  You really feel like you're making the trip yourself...and that trip can be long and arduous, but the sense of accomplishment and wonder when you reach a wholly unfamiliar area is absolutely palpable.

When it comes time to go mano y mano with the enemy creatures (which, by the way are things like this) the battles themselves require precision, strategy, and an understanding of your allies' strengths and weaknesses.  In addition, if you look at the battle screens, you'll notice that the characters hit points are on what looks like a rolling ticker...and when they take damage, the ticker begins to quickly wind down.  That said, if you manage to finish to battle before the ticker hits zero, your character will live to fight another day.  That way, even when dealt a mortal blow, the battle doesn't end.  Instead you try to end the fight as fast as you can by pulling out your strongest attacks or healing yourself just in the nick of time.  Through the gameplay, Earthbound somehow captures the hectic nature of combat.

If you aren't sold on it by now, it might not be your thing.  If you're considering getting a hold of it, DO IT.  I highly recommend it for your gaming education.

Earthbound Bullet Points!

• Healing potions?  Not in THIS game.  You heal yourself by eating hamburgers and pizza.
• 4th wall?  What 4th wall?  Earthbound is cavalier and playful with the fact that you're holding a controller in your hand.
• Endearing character round-up: a gum-chewing monkey that helps you tame a loch-ness monster, your loving sister who gets a part-time job storing and retrieving items you have no room for, a race of foot-high creatures who say 'BOING!' all the time, a man who designs dungeons for a living, a gang leader with a switchblade and a heart of gold, a brave bumble bee ally who serves as your first mentor and can kick the living crap out of aliens, a jazz quintet who--despite their best efforts--is always under the thumb of greedy promoters, a poor scruffy smelly inventor who turns out to be an incredible resource, and so on and so on.
• The final boss of the game is arguably one of the most terrifying opponents in the history of gaming.  I won't say exactly why...but trust me on this.  Giygas is frequently listed as the scariest boss ever created.

That's all for now.  Thanks for taking the time to join my nostalgia trip.  Seriously give this game a go.  You won't be disappointed.

Love love nerd love,
Dak

Holy Hiatus!

I'll skip the paragraph of rampant excessive apologies and get right into an update.  Otherwise we'd be here all day.  So, the touring show is done!  Naturally its always strange putting something like that to rest.  With the infinitely transient nature of acting, all we have to show for a successful production is a bunch of memories and experiences.  It's strange.  A successful architect can point to a structure, and beautiful building with a gorgeously landscaped park and say "Yes, that is MINE.  I have done THAT."  With acting it's more like "Hey remember that one day when you made that ONE choice?  Yeah...that was cool." and you all sit around for a while quietly sipping a drink and reminiscing.  I love the way good theater teaches you about the value of experiences over materials.  The sweet military coat you scrounged up at a second hand store vs the sweet military coat you bought at a high-fashion store somewhere.  Both are cool.  One has a bit of a story.

I have an extra special lady friend now, too.  An ESLF if you will.  She's a tattooed goofball/perfumer/massage therapist/yoga instructor/witch with a penchant for rocking incredible hair and an appreciation for the finer things in life.  I'll put up some pictures once she signs the photo release consent form.  You know how paperwork can get backed up.

Also if you're not a supergeek, you may have missed this incredible quote from one Jerry Holkins, co-creator of Penny Arcade.

"Every creative act is open war against The Way It Is. What you are saying when you make something is that the universe is not sufficient, and what it really needs is more you. And it does, actually; it does. Go look outside. You can’t tell me that we are done making the world. "

 I can't tell you how much I need this chiseled into my flesh.  I've gone a long time assuming that the world itself in fact doesn't need me clowning around in it.  It doesn't need my silly esoteric ideas and strange interpretations of human nature an art.  It doesn't need me smiling my way down the street because I happen to be tickled pink (purple..?) about something or other.  It doesn't need city-wide games of capture the flag or post-apocalyptic productions of Woyzeck or bare-stage Chekhov shows or variety comedy nights or just a damn good devised outdoor piece.  I've shrugged my shoulders and abdicated responsibility for my half-done comics and the untold stories in my head.  I've shied away from those chord progressions that just won't leave me alone and those cool mash-up ideas that couldn't POSSIBLY work (Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger + Hash Pipe.)


Quite a good lie I've been getting away with telling myself.


Be good, kids.  More on the flip side!


Love loves loved,
Dak

P.S. Here's an amazing PSA flyer from Wallace, Idaho. 

Life's too short

BOY it's been an interesting few weeks. In the real world, it's been an absolutely amazing time of tours and travel and creativity and friendship. In the ever-present 'Drama of Dakotah' however, it's been an intense session of self-assessment (flagellation) instead. I know I vent here quite a bit, and this isn't exactly that. I'd really just like to write some of this wackiness out so I can see it at a measurable distance.

A few posts ago I talked about how easy it is to make myself smug. I'm great at assuming I understand exactly how this incredible magical world works--so I don't have to participate in it. Well it's that and the fact that I'm always telling myself that my mind is a timebomb. Not only that, I tell myself that I have legitimate reason to think that.

Lemme break it down for ya'!

Not sure how often I've mentioned it here, but mental illness and cancer run absolutely rampant in my family. That scares the hell out of me. As a matter of fact, it often scares me so much that I'll spend huge amounts of time worrying if I'm losing my grip. I don't know what that feels like, so how would I know? I interpret every mental bump-in-the-road as the last straw before I completely lose it. No, it's not real. Of course it's not real. Am I strange? Sure, yeah! Eccentric even (because it sounds cooler.) Is it wrong? Hell no!

I often feel so wary of being vulnerable, so afraid of my imagined personal catastrophe that I shut down completely. I get lazy. I get emotionless. I get judgmental. I get defeatist.

It's tough for me to 'be okay'. It's something I have to work pretty hard on. For so long, my mantra has been "It's not about you". I stopped trusting my own feelings. My own desires, goals, and needs.

And that's gotten me exactly nowhere. I've been treating myself like the geeky kid from high school that I'm too ashamed to admit I hang out with. In reality, he's my best friend.

I'll be taking care of myself. You do that too.

Love love love, and I mean it--
Dak

Bigger than you think

Avoid obvious penis joke inherent in title...avoid obvious penis joke inherent in title--

No no, this is simply about art and life.

Firstly, I have an odd reaction to people pointing out that I'm not easily bothered because I'm just not the type to get affronted/insulted. Half of it feels complimentary, sure. It's nice to be seen as 'that person'. At the same time it's somewhat deflating. Part of me, ironically, is insulted by the notion that it's just my nature to let stuff slide. As a matter of fact, it took an immense amount of work for me to get to this place. What appears as pure naivete is the side-effect of years of plugging away at my own massive anxiety/extreme self-doubt. It's not that I don't care what people think or say about me, it's that it's no longer become a priority of mine.

Life is a lot larger than the notions of strangers. Life is a massive, mysterious joyride that you steer with the rudders of commitment and intuition. Life is bigger than my stubbed toe or a spiffy coat. It's larger than my lack of sleep or my hunger pangs. It doesn't care about heartsickness or busy days. "That thing that one jerk said to me" doesn't even register as a blip on its radar...so why would I let it? Why would I give over my power to minutiae when I have the option not to?

In a way, this thought process has affected my career path as well. In college it was easy to become extremely self-centered, especially due to the nature of my acting program. You didn't sack up, you got cut from the major. One was all but forced to focus entirely on themselves. As I've grown and gotten involved in more productions outside of that arena, however, I've had to dispense with that self-consciousness and commit to a production rather than my own performance. It's not about me, it's about the story being told. Working on something larger than myself allows me to ignore the personal B.S. and focus on the performance as a whole. It's not about an audience thinking I'm good at what I do, it's about the experience....and it's my job to serve the whole.

Heh...serve the whole..

And now...everyone's favorite...

Bullet Points!

• If you haven't checked out this blog yet, do it. You will be floored by a storm of clever writing.
• Oh, and while I'm plugging...you ought to add this to your reading list.
• I thought I was going to be a super awesome 300-Style Spartan and leap back into my workout regimen. A day later I feel like one of those marginally less badass bubble-bath craving Spartans.
• Still working on those posts I owe you, be tee dubs. Earthbound eventually, I swear.

That's all this dude has to say for now. Be good and eat cupcakes!

Love,
Dak

Art not without ambition...

...but without the illness should attend it.


For most of my life, I've assumed that the things I want only desire a passing familiarity with me. I've used this excuse to avoid going after the life I'd really like to carve out for myself. Oh certainly I've got ambition...but typically it has little to do with improving my life in any profound way. I've mentioned this before, but it's a hell of a lot easier to throw up your hands in disappointment and declare that nothing will ever work out. It's unearned disillusionment. It's smug and it makes you seem REALLY smart.

"Wha? Oh...nah. Become a great artist? That's not for me. It's for douchebags. Besides, that's like...impossible right? Art is in infinite pursuit, so I might as well take my hat out of the ring before we start."

What the eff, right? I don't want to be that guy! Who would? I hate talking with that guy! That guy bums me out at bars! That guy is content to listen to obscure bands and judge people from his brittle ivory tower. That guy...um...is me sometimes.

But hell, as I say frequently, nobody is truly bound to their history! You're always free to doff the ties that bind you to the past and strike out on new adventures. We all do it without realizing it anyway!

My current adventures, by the by, are taking me to lovely Salmon, Idaho to perform Shakespeare, eat at the Junkyard Bistro, and laze around in a bar owned by a local parkour practicioner. If it's anything like last year, it'll also involve some very interesting/bizarre encounters with townies who may or may not want to murder and or sleep with me. Wish me luck. If I return without all of my limbs, then I've done something wrong.

Or very, very right.

Bullet Points!

• My current obsessions (in no particular order): Assassin's Creed:Brotherhood, Quicksilver by Neal Stephenson, Cameo Lover by Kimbra, RPG Maker VX, MSPA, and of course--your rockin' booty.
• It's probably time to take Salsa again. Dancing, that is... I'm not just going around pilfering jars of El Paso.
• Yeah, I've got ideas for Doo Doo Thursdays. You just wait.
• After seeing The Artist with an awesome new friend, I'm finally inspired to write that pantomime show. It's gonna happen, IT'S HAPPENING.
• Add to previous obsessions: 70's era funk bands.

That's all for now, rockstars! Love, peace, and jheri curl grease!

Yours,
Dak

On Love and Vigilance

It's been tough trying to unravel two-odd decades of 'acting a certain way' in a matter of months. Naturally, I had to forget about time limits altogether in order to maintain my sanity. It's like sanding down the surface of a record and putting entirely new grooves on it. Unlearning all the old songs has given me a lot to work on, and I didn't realize just how difficult it would be. It's been like coming home from a trip to the beach and totally forgetting about the four days of dumping sand out of uncomfortable places.

As Mad-Eye Moody would say, it's about 'Constant Vigilance'. I'm great at feeling like I'm good at something. I'm great at thinking I've got a bit of knowledge in a subject and that it's more than enough to get by. As a matter of fact, that's probably the reason it rubs me the wrong way so much when people profess expertise in a subject without proving that they really have it. There's plenty I think I know. Including people.

And at the same time, I'm continually surprised. I'm surprised at how people accept me even when they know my icky side. I'm surprised when I assume someone will react to something in a certain way and they don't. I'm surprised and how little credit I give some folks...often the ones who've shown how much they're really there for me. I flip into this "Oh well gee...you might think I'm great, but you're wrong. I don't deserve your love/appreciation/acceptance/etc"

That's utter bullshit.

My friends and family are my pillars. More than they know.

It takes me an incredibly long time to really trust most people, and it's ridiculously hard for me to love with a complete open heart.

I think that's the next thing to work on. To watch, at least. To be vigilant of.

Love you all. Seriously. I wouldn't be where or who I am without you.

Dak

P.S. Bullet Points!

• That post about Earthbound may be a while...I'm trying to find an angle. Might have to use video for that one to make all my points. You know what that means!! MY ANNUAL PLAYTHROUGH OF EARTHBOUND IS COMING UP!
• If you're wondering--yes, the pictures are almost entirely unrelated.
• I turn 27 in just under a week. Let's hope the rock star curse doesn't hit me...which would make sense, since I'm by no means a rock star.
• Doo Doo Thursdays...resurrect, or let it go?
• Also--you should probably check out this blog. It's written by a dear friend of mine whose linguistic skills are only outdone by her incredible personality. She is beyond lovely, and you'd only be doing yourself a favor by giving her work a look-see.

Bumpin' Attractives

DISCLAIMER: If you're someone who'd prefer to think of me as an asexual creature (i.e. family members, friends, etc.) I'd suggest you ignore this post entirely.

Pic unrelated, but really pretty.

So!

I've been meaning to write a post about sex and attraction for a while, but I couldn't quite figure on what angle I'd take (entendre?) At a loss, I just decided to sort of dive in (entendre!)

I'll just say right off the bat, I really enjoy gettin' it on. Now obviously what human doesn't, but I love every single aspect of it. Perhaps this has more to do with a combination of the tactile sense of everything in conjunction with really learning someone else's rhythm. Either way, I like it a lot. That said, I don't really express that. It has more to do with my assumption of others' level of comfort than my own. In fact, over the New Year, I had a recent acquaintance lean over to me and explicitly describe some fun she and her boyfriend had on the way up to town, then she paused and asked if she was sharing too much information. I politely shook my head and reassured her that it's not something I'm squeamish about, and in fact I love when good friends have great sex.

Obviously I'm one who observes what's appropriate or polite in pleasant company. It's not like I'm going to call home one night and say, "Hey ma! Okay, so I was balls-deep in this backup dancer for RZA, right?" However, I'd still like to feel more comfortable expressing this part of me--especially to those I'm interested in. I believe my worry comes from potentially scaring someone off by sharing with them how much I'm attracted to them. No, like attracted to them. It's a touchy subject anyway, and I've always been careful about respecting others' boundaries...but now it's to the point where I freeze up when I feel attraction. I assume the person I'm interested in couldn't possibly be as lascivious as I am, so I don't make a move. When I think about it...I suppose its another fear issue. Something to really be aware of.

After all...hell...there's no reason why I can't be honest about that. So if I'm attracted to you, you'll know.

To conclude, bullet points!

• Started Macbeth rehearsals! They're going AMAZINGLY. It's like...Japanese street fashion meets steampunk meets goth meets Hammer horror film meets avant-garde Beckett piece.
• I had a spectacular couple of holidays! I can't even pick a favorite part.
• My prison cell apartment has gotten much less prison cell-y as of late. I even have a BEDSPREAD! HOLY HELL!
• I hesitated to start waking up at 6 again at first, but now that I'm in the groove--it's AMAZING! The day feels ridiculously long in a fantastic way.
• The hair may inspire a Bebop outfit one day. If you're lucky.

That's all for now, lovelies! Be good!

Love,

Action Dakson