The Power of One

I have pushed aside posting about personal “stuff”.  I did research about blogging a few months ago and how to write enticing posts and blah blah blah…. and someone (a dude) wrote, “Don’t get personal”.  But, if I don’t get personal, how do you really know me?  Maybe it will piss someone off?  Maybe.  Maybe I will regret it?  Maybe.  But, that’s just us being insecure and worrying about what other people think.  The greatest icons of this world don’t care what you think.  And if they didn’t say it, who would we relate to?  Look up to?  How would we ever know that having issues and emotions is NORMAL?

I have not spoken/posted about WHY I took this road trip.  I feel/have felt emotionally heavy since day one.  June 18th to be exact and probably many days before that.  In March, my boyfriend deserted the relationship.  I don’t know why, no reason has ever been given.  “I don’t know” was literally the answer.  The NERVE to say “It’s not you, its me” slithered out of his mouth.  Once again, the serpent convinced Eve to take the fruit from the tree.  Now, naturally my reaction was/is “What did I do wrong?”   No closure, no explanations.  Pure abandonment.  I know most of you have been there.  That hollow feeling.  The tightest tension in your shoulders.  Inability to breath.  Xanax never sounded so good.  Wake me up in a year.

Without going into the whole story, because, that is my business,  I will move on.

I have for the past 6 years worked in the film business and fashion industry.  I knew two years in, I wasn’t happy.  The hours, the pretentiousness, and the behavior of (some) actors.  We create Gods out of mortals and they behave accordingly.  It’s a joke.  Now, there are GREAT actors who are so down to Earth and hang with the crew and generally care to talk and get to know us personally.  I’m still friends with some I’ve worked with.  Some of my best friends are from the film biz;  writers, directors, sound engineers, on and on.  It’s a “Carney” family if you will.  We all work together 16-18 hours a day for 6-7 months straight.  Big paychecks but, the payoff?  Broken backs, coke problems, fat bellies, jaded personalities and no time for love.  Yes, that is the film biz. No, not every one of us is like that but, ask anyone you know that works in film or TV.  It’s a circus with no ring master.  I gotta get out of this business.

The fashion industry:  Seen the Devil Wears Prada?  Yeah, its like that.  When I was an assistant stylist, I vowed never to treat my assistants the way I was treated or saw “interns” abused.  I moved to LA back in 2008.  I “interned” AKA worked for free to get a foot in the door, with this 24-year-old fashion “stylist” who was really just a brat living in the Hollywood Hills with a Mercedes (all provided by Mom and Dad of course) and all her assistants were unpaid interns.  She parties all night and came in hung over to jobs and was abusive.  After working as an “intern” for free for a week she had another intern call me begging me to come help (bust my ass) for free some more.  I said I was unavailable and I could hear her screaming in the background for me to come help.  I hung up the phone.  I tried to transfer to the union out there for film work.  I had a killer resume and had experience as a  “personal” too.  I tried to follow the rules and went to every costume house to put in my “time” before I could even considered being accepted into the Local IATSE.  Everyone told me the waiting list was 2 years long.  One girl who was a receptionist was actually like “Look, I’m going to be honest with you, if you don’t know someone, forget it.  I’ve been the receptionist here for 6 years and that’s because my Uncle is blah blah blah… So you should just go home.”  Okaaaay.  So, after I went into credit card debt trying to survive out there, I then went back to Miami.

Everyday I felt like a canary in a coal mine.  Is this my purpose?  How do people do this?  This is not creative, this is not glamorous, and I feel this incessant guilt like I’m not doing my part for the world.  How do you do that when you work in an industry of waste and celebrity?  I hated myself and what my career stood for.

I’ve lost my creativity.  I’ve lost my spirit.  The boy threw water on my flame.  New York was offering me nothing.  No yard, nowhere to be zen, trash on the streets and every time you walked out the door you spent $50 or more.  I was paying close to $2000/mo for a piece of crap, rat-infested apartment that was next to the projects so I could live in (not even Manhattan) Williamsburg.  I was depressed and felt more insecure than ever.  Lost, once again in my life.  I wanted to go home.  I missed my Mom, my little sister growing up, space, a yard….Texas.  Time to go home and re-group.  I had just finished a movie job and had a little money saved so, I decided to go home to San Antonio and get my car so I could have more “freedom” in NY.  I wanted my hobby of selling vintage clothes online to become my full-time job.  I thought, OK, I’ll go home, get the car, see my family and drive back and buy some vintage clothes for the shop along the way.  That will clear my mind.  After I got home I quickly felt the pressure to take care of business and get on the road.  It started to stress me out.  I’ve always let stuff like that stress me out.  The pressure to get back so you don’t miss a job.  People were calling me to work, it’s pilot season coming up!   My God, here comes the tension again building up in my shoulders.  What are you racing back to?  You have no boyfriend.  He took it all back, remember?

Now what?  You spent all your money moving to New York and only have a few thousand in the bank.  What are you going to do with a few thousand?

I decided to just drive… the other way.

I’ve been on the road for 2 months this August 18th.  Something is pulling me.  It’s clearly a calling.  But what is it?  I’m still figuring it out.

The Power of One was a blog post by a traveling blogger I subscribe to.  I’ve been searching for the post so I could link you to it but, I’m unable to find it right now which is frustrating.  The man, in the beginning of his blogging career, thought “Who is going to read this?  Who cares?  Why would anyone be interested in what I have to say?”  He came home one afternoon and opened his email and he had a notification that someone had commented on his blog.  That was all he needed.  Someone out there was appreciative he provided information and they took the time to voice it  “If ONE person out there is interested in what I have to say, then there must be MORE people within the billions in the world”…  He was right.  Now he has a full-time career traveling and blogging.  What an amazing life.

As I travel the roads alone across America, through the desert and now up to California, I’ve been more frequently receiving personal messages from women who are watching me, following my Instagram, Facebook and blog.  Calling me things like “fearless, brave, inspiring” and hearing them say, “I wish I could do that!”  I’ve met SO many amazing people already who I just sit with and listen to their stories and you can see in their eyes that it’s been a while since someone truly listened with unbiased opinion.  This experience has been utterly humbling.  I’ve rekindled friendships that I thought were forever lost.  Complete strangers have opened their homes to me, fed me, given me keepsakes and good luck charms and blessings, invites to their winter homes in Mexico, even gone out of their way to come see me at the markets sell my vintage clothes and bring me beverages.   I don’t know what this is yet but, the experiences I’ve had and the person I am transitioning into is priceless.   Everyone is saying that “summer is over” but, mine is endless.

Onward and upward.

(All images were taken in motion, while I was driving towards Marfa, Texas from San Antonio… Obviously, don’t be stupid too and attempt to do this).