Loosening the Death Grip (Starting a Podcast?)

Some of the cast and crew on my film have been energized by the experience — and this is all aside from whatever the resulting film ends up being. They’re just pumped to be involved in something, to be collaborating. I’ve been learning quite a bit just from being around these types of individuals. I was expressing to my wife that it’s very rare for me to want to “hang out” with people, unless we are working toward a mutual goal of some form. I don’t know if that’s normal? I’m capable of it, and even good at it. Maybe there is some guilt lingering from wasting far too many years just shooting the shit with friends. I’m sure that’s a big part of it. Part of the tragedy of going through the school of hard knocks (like I did after the reality hit that I was a college graduate with no job prospects except for the same shit I could’ve got without dumping 100K into a college degree) was that it calloused my youthful soul. I learned the pain of letting my guard down and relaxing. Relaxing my way through life, laughing. Why would I do that? What substance is there in “joy?”

Of course, I’m kidding, but actually not — because I think that sadistic ethos is imprinted in a very deep part of my being now. I’m trying to loosen my death-grip on the wheel. It’s hard.

The idea of starting a podcast has been tossed around by the actors, who just genuinely enjoy being in each other’s creative presence when we aren’t filming. I suppose… despite my really intense feelings against burning precious time laughing with friends while doing nothing, there is a part of me that is the antithesis of that other, meaner part. A big part that comes out when I’m not over-thinking myself into exhaustion. I do like to talk. I love people.

I think I’m going to start a podcast.

What about? Who the fuck knows? Who cares. I don’t think anyone is going to read this, and I don’t think anyone is going to listen either. It doesn’t matter. If I pretend that they’re listening, it’ll be just as enjoyable. What does that say about me? I desperately want an audience? I’m not sure. I think I’d like money, resulting in the ability to finance my ever-evolving art.

Here, I’ll be very vulnerable, like a little boy writing in his journal:

I’d like to be spoken of in the same way as my favorite film-makers. To have someone mention my work as they’re talking about the good shit. I’d like to meet them, and shoot the shit with them, and something tells me that in the act of doing all of this, I’d probably realize that they’re no better than the folks I’m surrounded by now. None of it is. Fame, having people know who you are…

The money would be great though. Boy, what I’d do with a film budget…