When I first began this project I brought up the question are we born to be an artist or is it something that we learn. I talked to a number of different artists and remember there was a mixture of responses. For me I grew up on a family cattle ranch in the mountains of Montana where I wasn’t really exposed to much of anything creative, yet as a kid I was drawn to coloring and creative hobby type things as gifts for Christmas. My parents must have recognized some semblance of talent there because they always gave me things that captivated me or mostly things I had to build. When I colored I worked had to stay within the lines. My grandmother taught me to cook and sew when I was about ten and I began to make clothing I would wear to school. My parents tell stories of how I gathered all my brothers and cousins and created stage shows in the barnyard for everyone to see. I was a drama nerd in high school and created a drama club and began doing stage productions. I then won a scholarship to the University of Montana in Missoula for theater and earned a degree in performing arts with an emphasis on directing live theater production, essentially creating my own program at the time. I was mostly interested in lighting design and work anything back stage. I worked in professional theater for many years until I got burned out of constantly being on the road, returned to Montana, and took up photography. Looking back, everything about my life has been creative and I feel fortunate to have made a living pursuing my passions. I still make a living and do quite well with it and still live a creative life.
So was I born to it? I am not entirely sure. I was born with a strong curiosity and probably a stronger ability to make things happen. I do know as a creative soul my focus becomes more concentrated the older I get. Downright obsessive. I am drawn to photography because it is something I never stop learning or growing with. Though it has become relatively simpler from when I started with, processing my own film, it is still a challenge. I probably have most every piece of equipment to filter or channel light in most any conceivable way. I have found one of the key tenants of becoming an artist is to always bring yourself to the creative table. Every day if possible. Once you recognize this the world automatically sorts it self out and makes way for your creativity to flourish. But be relentless in your pursuit. After a while self doubt and constant questing vanishes and you get to a state where everything becomes a part of your creative evolution. I learned not to be so critical of myself in the beginning and accept my mistakes as part of the learning process. I see so many young artists who say this really isn’t very good about something they have created, expecting it to be a masterpiece right from the get go. It never is. They give up to easy and find something simpler to do, when this is really the impetus of something remarkable that has completely compelled and engaged them. Yet they can’t see the remarkable beauty that brought them to it from the beginning. They are only looking at the end result and judging everything else on that. First and foremost believe in yourself and trust that all will be resolved. To realize all of life is a creative process and an evolution along an expressive continuum.
I was out and about on Friday and happened to glance at our local newspaper to see that gay marriage had finally come to my home state of Montana. Tears welled up in my eyes as I sat in a public space as waves of overwhelming feeling poured over me. For some reason it become a defining moment in my life where I have now become totally accepted for who and what I am. I guess I knew in my heart it was on its way, so many other states have already adopted it. One of my best friends married a truly remarkable partner last year in Seattle, I was not able to attend but when they described how overwhelming the whole experience was to be surrounded by people so much family, such close friends, people who admire and adore you to celebrate their love and commitment to each other. I felt a little pang with jealousy that they were already there and we were not yet. I was born in a small Montana community and partially raised on a fourth generation cattle ranch that was homesteaded by my great grandfather. I always realized I was different, and most of my life became a battle to defend that difference. It was not genetic and it was not choice it was just the simple fact that I was what I was, gay! I have always been open about my feelings and my passions, even though most of my youth I was encouraged to overlook or suppress what I was. Over the years it has created a certain amount of anguish, as if I was living on the outside of society but not actually able to enter within it. It made me stronger, I developed a resilience to become comfortable as myself. It defined my character but built my personality. I have always been drawn to the creative arts as a means of expression. It was through this expression I found myself, told and showed the world who I was, through my work and was actually define and explore all my feelings and emotions. The struggle to define one’s self is what makes truly interesting artistic expression. Though I don’t feel compelled to rush out and marry the man of my life, whom I have loved and adored for 17 years I do see what a remarkable and blessed journey I have been on. It somehow feels awesome to be accepted with open in a place I have always been a part of.
This past week, partly because the temperature dropped into the teens, I have retreated back into this project. In fact, it has renewed my obsession with The Naked Man Project. It’s almost like I have to completely deconstruct it to bring it back into existence. God what was I doing before to create such a hodge-podge of a mess. I’m actually quite surprised it even functioned for as long as it did, but I’m having a blast revitalizing it. In fact I feel on fire with it. Working on it from the moment I get up and then late into the evening on my laptop in bed. I have never believed in something as much as I have this project.
Have we changed culturally since the inception of Rocky Horror 41 years ago or do we still live in a delusional fantasy world of manufactured dreams? I guess I really question how many people actually live their lives instead of dream them.
I am beginning to feel like Meryl Street in Adaption where her world of reality begins to blur with the fiction of her creation! Where does one draw the line between themselves and artistic integrity? I have always been intrigued by the age-old question. Does art imitate life or does life imitate art?
