Wednesday, March 28, 2012

March Madness


This month has been a whirlwind of crazy. First I had Tyler’s 30th Bday, then I flew out to Texas for SXSW, then Brad and I went on a spring break vacation EXTRAVAGANZA, and in the middle of all of this I was offered my own television show. Trying to communicate even a fraction of the mental and physical exhaustion I am feeling right now seems completely unfathomable because there are no words to describe this!

So let’s just start from the beginning. Earlier this month, Tyler turned 30. Most people hit 30 and (from what I hear) it’s a time where they pull out the proverbial yardstick and figure out how they measure up to their goals and expectations they’d set for themselves before they knew better. Tyler has a lot going for him; from his modeling career in college, to his short-lived pro soccer career, to just being this awesome and genuine human being that people gravitate around. I could go on for days, but the point is he knows he’s awesome so that stupid ass yardstick wasn’t about to rain on anybody’s parade this year! We surfed, we barbecued, we hit the skateparks, we rode our motorcycles up to Hollister and back, then we drank and partied so hard it was like we were teenagers again!

It felt so good to have some serious hang time with Tyler. It was crazy how much I missed him without actually knowing it until we were together again. We never have time to just be stupid with each other because I live halfway across the country and guys don’t spend hours on the phone “chatting” with each other. So needless to say, we both needed this time. Somewhere in the middle of all our fun my agent found out I was in town and asked me to come in for a sit down. I refused to ruin Tyler’s week with business, so I scheduled a meeting on the Sunday before I flew out to Texas to meet Eddie for a screening of our short film.

Long story short, this network offered me my own show based on a segment I always do when I host this show for them. I haven’t blogged about hosting since like 2008, so just to update: I work for this super duper obscure cable network guest hosting when the principles are out, or occasionally just doing short segments for the show. The last time I appeared on the show was at the beginning of March, and now they want me to make this a regular thing.

After taking a minute to really let this offer soak in, I wanted to say no and be done with it. This was the obvious next step in the relationship I had with this network. In one form or another, I have my hand in at least 4 of their current shows, and my agent is really good friends with their head of programming. AND the fucker (my agent) is always trying to figure out another way to squeeze as much money out of me as possible! After spending an hour going over all the specifics, I really started to get excited over the potential of what this offer really meant. My biggest problem that I have, and always have had, is dealing with being in front of the cameras. I absolutely hate doing it! So that’s where I have left that, up in the air, the usual…

Next was an awkward yet amazing 3 days at SXSW with Eddie. Our film was originally rejected because they had removed our category at the festival, but after viewing it they decided to screen it in all it’s 10 minutes of glory just cuz it was awesome. Eddie brought his boyfriend and we awkwardly made small talk but were clearly not into being around each other. We got a shit ton of accolades and spent the next few days being approached and asked if we were responsible of the awesome they’d witnessed. It was fun, but on the third day I was so glad to finally be done with all that drama.

FINALLY it was time to fly back to New Orleans and pack for mine and Brad’s SPRING BREAK VACATION EXTRAVAGANZA! We flew to Hawaii where we surfed, laid out in the sun, surfed, made love, surfed, ATE, surfed, and just enjoyed each other. Content. That’s how I would describe my week. Absolutely content. I was so happy and at ease. It was beautiful. If every week could be like that, I would know heaven.

Now here I am, back in New Orleans, sitting at my computer trying to figure out what the hell I am going to do next with my life. My biggest worry is that one day very soon I am going to need more than my million dollar smile to get me through life. I really should be milking every opportunity for everything it’s worth.

Thursday, March 08, 2012

I need a hobby...


I have been back for about a few weeks now and I am finally starting to feel like a human being again. Little by little this city has gone from unbearable to just slightly annoying, but it still has a long way to go before I can call this armpit, home. There’s nowhere to skate! No steep hills to bomb, or cool spots to street skate; I can’t think of a single thing to do for fun here!

Okay that’s not true. This month I am pretty sure that I have had sex more than anybody else on the planet, so that’s something. I have also been spending a lot of time doing some much needed work on my Carrera, which has been mostly neglected these last few years. Still I can’t build an entire life around sex and cars, I really need to find a new hobby.

On Monday I received my cash-money from the gallery via wire transfer into a bank account that I never use! A smart man would’ve picked up a cashier’s check and then brought it to the proper bank, or electronically transferred the cash. Unfortunately I am a BORED man, and bored me are seldom smart men. So I thought it would be fun to take out the entire amount in cash and play with it for a while. I had to run out to my car and grab my man-bag (empty it of all it’s contents) then fill it up again with cash!

I am not sure if anybody is aware of this, but money is heavy. $5,000 in $20’s $10,000 in $50’s and the majority in $100’s; walking out of the bank my heart was racing and my adrenaline was so high my whole body felt like it was shaking! I brought the money home and then I spent the last few days playing with a HUGE ASS pile of cash! I photographed it, sketched it, I built money cities, and I posed with it in many different and awesome ways, then this morning I brought it back to the bank. I really need to find a new hobby...

Monday, March 05, 2012

Failure!

So my gallery show in NYC went exactly how I thought it would. 8 pieces in this collaborative show; 6 sold the first night and the other 2 sold the following night. I am so miserable and full of contempt for anything and everything I have tried to do in the last few years and it’s actually starting to really make me depressed. In all honesty, I know there is so much in my life I should appreciate more than I do. I have achieved so much that I should be proud of, but I am not. My career should make me happy, but it doesn’t. I want to find a way to FORCE myself to at least recognize how far I have come, but I can’t.

I know exactly what is bothering me. 10 years ago I was beginning my career as a professional athlete. I remember training for months to get my body into perfect shape, then hitting the waves for hours and hours until my body felt like jello. I gave surfing my all, then competition time would roll around and I would finish eighth, or fifth, or even third, but NEVER first! Almost immediately surfing stopped being about me enjoying myself and became this impossible adversary I needed to DEFEAT!

Surfing isn’t something you can conquer. It’s something you spend your entire life having an amazing love affair with. You practice, you appreciate and you honor surfing for the art that it is; it’s beautiful and it’s a gift that not many people on this planet can truly appreciate. I failed as a professional athlete because I couldn’t cope with not always being the best. I couldn’t rap my head around giving 110% and not coming out on top. 10 years later and I can finally see how stupid I was way back when it mattered, and I can’t help but have one of those “if I only knew then what I know now” moments…

I wish I could blame my failed athletic career on my dual goal of pursuing an education at an Ivy League university, or on my sexuality, but deep down I know that’s just not the truth. The truth is I wasn’t mature enough as a man, or skilled enough as an athlete to succeed. I wasn’t enough. I am an artist because I couldn’t cut it as a surfer. I am a director because I failed as an athlete. I am a programmer, because I couldn’t be the best at what I truly loved. All these achievements just twist the knife a little more because they are all reminders that I am a failure.

I am set for the year; financially that is. I need to take some time to recalibrate and figure my shit out.