do i live a life worth telling stories about?
I was just at this concert and my little sister got to talking about being on a tv show, going into detail about all the crazy stuff she had to do. the guy talking to us turns to me and asks, "She was on tv , what about you? What crazy stuff have you done?"
My mind went blank. I've done a lot of cool stuff... I'm justifying all this now, but I haven't lived all too boring of a life –– I've eaten a free Michelin meal in Erfurt, I've ridden around Paris at midnight on the back of a motorcycle, I've taken a jet ski deep into a sandstone crevice with walls 50 feet up on both sides –– these are moments that make me feel alive. What did I tell this stranger? I told him that i took my pants off for a film, once. A student film. Why? Was I tying to be edgy, to relate to my little sister who excels in front of the camera?
|See the arrows? That's my dad and his boarding school friends|
I've traveled a lot of places, taken a lot of pictures, been on a lot of sets - yet constantly I am always behind the camera. I capture other people living a life worth talking about, worth photographing. when am i ever telling mine? Maybe I should be in front of the lens more often.
|Woman turns her gaze to the streets of Riga|
I can list off things I've done, or know how to do. My go-to is the time I went couchsurfing in paris, where I rode on the back of my host's motorcycle while we cruised around the city at midnight. I did a lot when I studied abroad:
I experienced so many firsts in terms of adventure and independence, however it's hitting me now that all of this is in the past. It's memory. I don't want stories of when I'm 21 to be the only stories I tell.
What have I done since then? I've travelled a lot. Held some glow-in-the-dark algae in my cupped hand. I went camping for the first time. I worked on a feature film (hey, leena). I took up rock climbing and yoga. I'm going surfing on saturday.... all this yet I feel
|Marty got Cooper halfway through his fight against cancer|
I could write a book on all the things that strangers have told me in coffee shops or bookstores around los angeles. Therapy dogs, mothers dying, long-term marriage advice, restarting a career in graphic design, driving across the continental US the day after getting hitched. How many pages would a book about me take up? If all these people combined forces, if they all wrote down a take-away from our conversation, would it hold any substance?