Tag Archives: Painting

A Hidden Blessing Not so Hidden Anymore!

1 May

The most excruciating part of low-budget, independent filmmaking is asking for help.

It takes a lot more people to make a film than almost any other art form. I often fantasize about being a lone poet or painter because of this harsh reality.

However, as I embark on my current feature film project, I am beginning to discover a hidden blessing within the taxing need for help. I have come to realize that asking for help often leads to receiving help, and receiving help comes with the blessing of knowing people care about you and your art.

Even if I don’t “make it” as a filmmaker, I will know one thing for certain: there are a lot of people out there who care about me, something I may never have known as a lone artist…

Ang Lee Cooking and Cleaning

4 Apr

My good friend, Jeffrey Travis, recently shared an article with me with the belief that I would find it encouraging: I did…very much!

Let me preface the article by saying that this year’s Academy Award winning director, Ang Lee, was in a long, long funk and seriously put in his dues.

From age 30 to 36, he’s living in an apartment in White Plains, NY trying to get something — anything — going, while his wife Jane supports the family of four (they also had two young children) on her modest salary as a microbiologist. He spends every day at home, working on scripts, raising the kids, doing the cooking. That’s a six-year span — six years! — filled with dashed hopes and

Enjoy the article, “Ang Lee and the Uncertainty of Success,” by Jeff J. Lin.

Hurry Up and Wait…

15 Mar

A fellow filmmaker recently asked me how I was doing and when I mentioned that some things are “in the works,” he responded, “Yeah, well….  Hurry up and wait, huh?”

That phrase, “hurry up and wait,” has been haunting me all week.  It gets to the core of what I loathe about filmmaking: our immense dependency on others.  Even the smallest film projects rely on the commitment of others.  Like kids on a playground before a game of kickball, countless filmmakers in Los Angeles are waiting around hoping to be a part of a team.  It’s torture, discouraging, and demoralizing.

It really is a conundrum: while us filmmakers love to collaborate and need others to actualize our art, at the same time, we are at their mercy.  It’s in the nature of what we do.  I’ve often fantasized of being a lone pianist, photographer, painter, or poet, engaged in an art form where completion rests solely on my efforts, but I love to make films.

I’ve successfully counteracted the dependency dilemma by making short films that relied on a few people.  However, when one’s project inherently demands substantial help from others, well, it’s hurry up and wait!

But then again, I doubt Spielberg has to hurry up and wait.  Maybe that’s the key: the more of a success you are, the less you wait.

I’ll never forget the time I was in a mass of people swarming around the filmmaker, Werner Herzog.  In the midst of the chaos, a 20-something kid battled the mob and stepped up to Herzog, begging: “Please, please.  I’ll do anything you want, Mr. Herzog, if only I can have a chance to be on your set and learn.”  I didn’t hear the filmmaker’s response; I was too stupefied by the desperation before me…

Encouragement is Electric

6 Mar

The further I traverse through the shadowy cave of creativity, the more I value encouragement.

Encouragement literally means to fill someone with courage, hope, confidence; to hearten.  Encouragement is spiritual defibrillation; a positive shock to the soul, a revival, a jolt of energy onward.

A friend encouraged me this morning at this very taxing time in my life.  He didn’t need to do it, but he did.  He chose to transcend his ego, denying the commonly held, unconscious belief that encouragement is a limited good.  No – he shared selflessly.

Encouragement is electric.  Like receiving a shock to the system with electronically charged paddles; shivers ran through my body as I read my friend’s generous email.

Encouragement is life-giving.  Imagine a world with more of it: more people heartened to do what they need to do.

Fortunately, there is an infinite surplus of encouragement to freely share with others…

Embrace Emotional and Spiritual Murder

11 Dec

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.

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