I’ve been learning about haiku poetry, a great turnstile to poetry and self-expression.
While developing a title for my current feature-length script, I came up with a haiku that captures its story rather well:
Love comes quietly,
“I love you” in a whisper.
Listen. Listen. Shh….
In the coming months, I will be considering various online distribution options for Girlfriend 19. Because of its brevity, 78 minutes, I believe it will appeal to online and cable viewers.
I decided to take a bold approach and highlight the film’s intensity with this trailer!
Establishing oneself as a professional artist is excruciatingly difficult in the United States. The American social system does not support nor does it encourage artistic aspiration. This is mainly because of capitalism, i.e., there is no monetary value in a novice work of art, thus, it is not invested in.
As a result of this resistance toward artistic aspiration, most striving artists suffer socially, economically, emotionally, and spiritually, which typically leads to an abandonment of dreams. I used to think this is tragic and unjust; it upset me and made me mad. However, the more I give filmmaking a go, the more I realize this resistance is a good thing.
When I decided to go to law school in 2003, I was socially, economically, emotionally, and spiritually supported. It was easy; everything fell into place. All I had to do was sign-off on student loans and show up to class. People were proud of me and encouraged me. And I felt spiritually grounded because I was comfortable. However, when I decided to drop-out and pursue a more personal passion, filmmaking, the support pretty much dissipated. I went from a top-tier law school student to a 31-year-old substitute teacher who wants to make movies. I was questioned, mocked, and humiliated.
Most people lack vision, so they will attack, criticize, and ridicule artistic aspiration. Rather than focus on the honesty and courage it takes to create, most look at the imperfect final product and devalue its creator. This is immature, selfish, and hateful. It’s a form of emotional and spiritual murder. But that’s how it goes and I doubt I’m going to change that. Rather, I have learned to embrace this injustice and see its benefits.
Resistance towards artistic aspiration has many latent benefits. First, it weeds out the hacks. Many dream of being a famous artist, but few really have the talent and the discipline, so they give up. Most are not called to be an artist to begin with and it’s a good thing that they give up; it’s good for us and for them.
Second, resistance builds character. Hate, discouragement, and indifference are like weights; you are forced to muscle them, which can build you up or kill you. If you keep on pumping those weights, you will become stronger and more resilient yourself. In fact, the more “famous” you become as an artist, the more resistance you will face, so the weights just get heavier, hopefully leading to greater character and better work.
Third, resistance forces you to become a better artist. Although it may be deeply painful, you are challenged to improve your work. In most cases, an artist is ignored because his/her work is not good, full of cliche, cheap mimicry. A mature artist will acknowledge this reality and strive to improve, to be more personal. Sure, even great art is often ignored due to subjectivity, ignorance, and fear; however, there will always be appreciation somewhere for good art if the artist continues to persevere.
Most importantly, resistance toward artistic aspiration leads to more authentic relationships. As the aspiring artist evolves, so to will his/her priorities, values, and perspectives. Superficial, vain, and unhealthy elements in life will no longer matter to the artist, thus, they will be drawn to and attract similar folks. The artist will be inspired by their new community of courageous, bold, and beautiful human beings. And though it may be painful, some people in the artist’s life will reject them and ostracize them, but that’s okay because these people are toxic and need to be distanced if the artist is to thrive.
Resistance sucks. It is often brutal, unjust, and, at times, evil. But if it is embraced, resistance can lead to beautiful things.
On a previously aired episode of Shark Tank, magician Rick Smith Jr. sought $1.5 million dollars for a 20% stake in a proposed Las Vegas magic show. That means he claims to be worth over $7 million; however, when grilled by the sharks, he admitted to having earned $200 thousand in the previous year – quite a discrepancy!
As you can imagine, the sharks proceeded to give Mr. Smith a big fat piece of humble pie.
“You haven’t proven yourself,” Barbara Corcoran simply put it. “It takes 10-15 years to be an ‘overnight’ success,” said Robert Herjavec. And billionaire Mark Cuban added, “You set your sights high, but you set them too high.”
And as soon as Mr. Smith began to argue, the most ruthless of all sharks, Kevin O’Leary bluntly shouted, “The guy who has the money makes the rules. That’s how it works!”
Independent filmmakers have a lot to learn from these sharks.
We need to prove ourselves before claiming to be worth millions and it takes many years to do that. And it’s great to set your sights high, but be reasonable and honest, access your gifts, talents, resources and connections. Don’t set them so high that you look like a fool while reaching, destined to fail.
And how true is Mr. O’Leary’s comment to us indie filmmakers? If you want folks to give you big bucks to make your film, be prepared to play by their rules!
Perhaps (and hopefully!) some have noticed that I have not posted an article for a few weeks now.
Life has been rather taxing lately, emotionally and, therefore, physically. It’s mostly personal, a combination of artistic angst and relational growth; however, enough encouragement and wise counsel has come my way to keep me going!
Going against the norm, doing what one feels they need to do, despite a more “secure” way, is not only difficult, it is exhausting. And I’ve come to a place of peace with this fact.
Believe me, this isn’t some kind of romanticizing the “artist’s life.” Rather, it simply is an acceptance of my inherent challenges and disappointments.
I’ve come to appreciate that gratitude begins with an embrace, even of those things that hurt us most…
