I went to see The Artist, as it’s become a custom to go check out all the movies that are nominated for big awards, like the Oscars or Golden Globes best pictures. Hugo, Ides of March, and Midnight in Paris were the only ones I saw out of personal interest, before the award nominations. Some nominations are clearly just political (the movie was bad but plays to the judges’ biases) or were really good but didn’t get as much buzz as the latest Transformers sequel. The Artist falls in the latter category, and for me this was a big surprise.

Here’s a quick summary: The Artist is a silent, black and white film about an actor experiencing the end of the silent film era and the beginning of the “talkies”, or films with sound. When I heard about this movie I couldn’t see how a modern western audience could possibly accept this enough to make it profitable in theaters. Though I’m very interested in making a silent film, it’s not because I think a lot of people would want to watch it, it’s just for me. Plus, I don’t get it when my parents laugh at those super dry movies from the 50′s, so I just knew a 30′s piece would go over my head entirely. I was pretty sold on just catching it on Redbox when the DVD is released, but then I asked myself when’s the next time in my life that I’ll get to see a feature length, silent black and white in a regular release theater? I took the gamble on my $10.50 and was thoroughly impressed!

The acting really did carry this movie from beginning to end. Without sound, the movie really left the audience with nothing but the actors’ emotions to connect with, and that focused heart to heart connection is simply stunning. At first I found myself trying to resist getting into the story, just off of principle, but when the emotions coming across the screen met familiar emotions within myself, I was completely taken in.

The amazing technological evolution happening in the world of moviemaking right now is… amazing! But at the same time, it comes with the anxiety of trying to keep up. I only have but so many real connections and opportunities to get my head wrapped around what’s happening in “the industry”, what’s a fad, and what’s a game changer. I’ve felt the disappointment of spending a year getting good at one thing just to look up and realize I’m way behind on something else that ended up being a bigger deal.

But that’s the art of making a living, isn’t it? Always requiring more creativity, more art. To me, pivoting to stay relevant is an art in and of itself. Best thing to do? Keep being an artist.

I feel like I spent much of 25 lamenting what I had yet to accomplish. When I first came to the revelation of the importance of my relationship with God, about 8 years ago, I read a lot of Old Testament narratives about kings. One of the things that struck me was how young the men were when they became kings. 25 seemed to be a popular age for rising to the call, and that really  put my overachieving into overdrive. I pushed and pressed and strained to try to make things happen, well beyond my years. I knew, I just knew, when I turned 25, my throne would be established in whatever arena I inhabited.

But like I said. When 25 came, I lamented. I was really happy just to be alive. Happy I hadn’t screwed things up enough to completely ruin what little life I had. I was happy I had escaped the age group among Black men that was statistically more likely than others to be killed by something dumb or kill themselves for something dumber. I was happy that I didn’t have any kids relying on me to feed them when I still hadn’t figured out my own life. I wasn’t happy that I still hadn’t figured out who the hell I wanted to be with, and believe me, I was thinking about it a lot. Honestly I felt like I was happy for the bare minimum in life in a middle class kind of way. I took my car insurance discount and kept my disappointment mostly to myself. If you follow a certain private account on twitter, you understand why I say mostly lol.

26. Leading up to my birthday last week, I looked back at what I had accomplished. Not much, but I was wiser, and that meant everything to me. It meant I learned to leverage where I am to get where I want to go. I learned to put my relationships and personal health above all else. It meant that I learned to prioritize things that actually matter. Not that I’m done learning, but simply that I’m learning now. I’m once again applying wisdom and cherishing it like I did before doing so much by a certain age seemed like a big deal.

I’m reconciling things with my family. They’ve gotten the brunt of my ambitions, really the leftovers of my time, if even that. I’m recognizing the limits of my current job opportunities and leveraging the experiences for all they’re worth for however long I’m supposed to be there. I’m giving time to making friends and building relationships that have little to no personal benefit to me. I’m paying more attention to my time and what I agree to use it for or not. I’m taking my business with a little more of a stride than a rush. I want to do it right… this time. Long story, lol.

Last thing: I’m learning patience. Everything can’t happen today, or in my preferred timing. One. step. at a time.

So, I’m thankful for humanity, a realization that I am one, and that that’s not a bad thing lol. Let’s see what happens at 27.

How old are you now? How does that make you feel?

Whew. I didn’t know what I was getting into.

I think that sums up what I and the main character Nina (Natalie Portman) felt during Black Swan.

I originally didn’t intend to see the film, because it looked like a chick flick. But then I kept hearing interesting reactions from people on Twitter and awards nominations that demanded I see what the big deal was about. As the story progressed, the first thing that struck me was that the soundtrack continued to be inspired by ballet music after they left the physical stage.

SPOILER ALERT: I’m not going to spoil anything.

In my opinion, this entire movie was a ballet. From beginning to end. And as one who would never willingly go to a ballet on my own, this was the most enjoyable “performance” I’ve ever seen. But I think that’s because this movie was the inverse of a ballet, rather than what I would traditionally expect. It pulled on your emotions from a deep place, with no apology, no gentleness. Nothing was left to your imagination. Every emotion that the story needed to express or exploit was done to the fullest extent.

This movie is about a girl stressing out about performing the lead role in Swan Lake. You knew that, right? For me, it was about every artist that’s asked to perform in a way they never have before, on cue. That was me up on that stage, without the makeup, leotard, woman parts… you get the point. We fight day in and day out to get past ourselves, our dysfunctions or human frailties to get these ideas out of our heads; to get ideas into our heads. Creativity is a beast, it’s a struggle. It’s not a science or a math test. You can’t simply learn a set of rules to get the right answer every time. When people ask me to “be creative”, seldom do they know the amazing experience I go through to take their project from generic and forgettable to something no one could’ve predicted at the beginning.

Over time I’ve learned the patience of inspiration. I can’t say that I always embrace it. It’s waiting for whatever God intends to use to hint, allure, drown or smack us in the face with “the answer” that will calm our nerves. Sometimes anxiety is the medium. Sometimes it’s silence. For this entry, it’s a quiet Panera bread right after a gripping cinema experience. But all in all, we are at the mercy of our muse, but thank God He’s built us to deal with that tension, let alone to receive what He downloads to us.

But it goes a little further than that. It’s the feeling that going back to work means walking in the building, and leaving my dreams at the door. And I know me. Some people might hang up their dreams Sunday night, others leave them next to their bed Monday morning. But for me, I carry mine right to the door. And for me, it’s because I’m so… close.

I shouldn’t feel this way right? I mean, unlike most of my colleagues, not only am I working, but I’m working extremely close to my field and career path of choice. I get to mess with cameras, direct programs, edit projects, and develop graphics every single day. But the longing kicks in when I’m reminded that those more interesting things I have to do are also accompanied by the mundane.

In my own (fake) little world, none of the boring things exist. I’ve either taught someone else to do them, or a computer takes care of it. Because outside of the 9-5, after the “employee” chapter of my life is closed, all I wanna do is dream, and then make it happen.

But this is just impatience speaking, and I know it. Once again unlike most of my colleagues, I’m also very much on pace to exit the 9 to 5 world and do my own thing. I hope to freelance free time, keeping my current employer as a client. But I want to be free to get up and go when I’m ready, make the rules, and make my money. If I didn’t have the kind of job I have now none of this would be possible, which is why I took it, over the jobs that would pay more but require my nights and weekends. In the few years I and my friends have spent in the workplace, I’ve seen what that does to people’s dreams. They get home, no energy, no desire, no fire left in them. They gave the best of their days and hours to someone else, and their dreams never got to benefit from it themselves. I really hope and pray that that’s not where my friends are headed; that they really do have a practical plan for getting back to what they love to do.

There’s nothing more tragic to me than a life unlived. A life in reach to attain, but never realized. But for me right now it’s about loving the ordinary from an extraordinary perspective. I see deeply every day how what I’m doing in and outside of work is preparing me for what is to come, and that excites me. For that, I thank God. I’m not in there dead inside. I’m just preparing to live.

As I did so many times as a kid and teenager I turned to television for the answer. To me, television reflects a lot of our society’s collective values. Some of my favorite sitcoms are The Office, Scrubs, Everybody Loves Raymond, and King of Queens. What do they celebrate about men? Well, not much in my opinion. Yeah, they’re comedies, but most of the lead male characters are morons who seem to only get things right on accident. Jim from the Office seems like the exception, but the abundance of buffoons surrounding him, on his show and in his genre, suggest that level-headed gentlemen who are leaders and the romantic type are one in a million. And maybe we are, but the propagation of cave men has a much bigger platform.

Provocative Old Spice Ad

Then there’s the message pornography sells to dudes. And I’m not talking about just the unspeakable stuff little kids accidentally find online. I mean the music videos, the magazines, the advertisements, club fliers… everywhere.

Bottom line: do/use/buy/act __________, and get women, because nothing matters more than having a woman want you. The subtle cues of television celebrate the man who gives a woman whatever she wants, submits to whatever she wants, and makes no qualms with that being his reality. The more explicit stuff just says it more explicitly.

Those type of men don’t need brains. Arguably. they don’t even need hearts. And they don’t have any significance outside of what they can do for women. That’s not the man God molded. That’s Adam at his lowest point… the very Fall of mankind.

be strong, show yourself a man, and observe what the LORD your God requires: Walk in his ways, and keep his decrees and commands, his laws and requirements … so that you may prosper in all you do and wherever you go – 1 Kings 2:2-3

Be strong. Show you’re a man. Do what God says. Everything else will be taken care of.

Be strong. This comes before “Show yourself a man” in this English translation of the Bible. For me, it confirms that it’s expected to really take something out of you to act like a man. It doesn’t just happen. Puberty doesn’t make men. Work, courage, and strength make men.

Show yourself to be a man. Prove it to yourself. God already knows who he made, and you can’t rely on a corrupted society to care. So show yourself what God made: walk in His ways. Trust that everything else will be taken care of.

This…. this is the challenge to male-kind. There’s none like it, none higher, and none more difficult. Anything less than aiming to live like God in human form, is weak. It’s not manly. It’s not the man God made. It’s the man, man made. And like everything else we make, it will fail us.

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