Who Am I?

November 22, 2009. Right now, I’m in the middle of production of the Development Package. It’s a whirlwind. Perhaps a mini-whirlwind compared to the actual feature. Only time will tell, I guess. But to keep up, I have to start writing the feature script and a series of kids books. It’s just something I have to do now because I have the time. Work in reality television is so sketchy. We are at a time when the industry is virtually turning upside down with dropped show budgets and the evolution of the new internet medium. Networks and studios are transforming “attempting” to keep up to new audiences while relying on “old” money. And with this balancing happening in my profession, my wife and I are plowing ahead with this animation holiday project, a new brand demanding prototypes of children’s books, toys, the movie, a potential sequel…EVERYTHING! It’s quite a bite to start with as an independent filmmaker. So strange. I have so many niche’ market movie projects: horror, romantic comedy, thriller, cult-classic, etc. And yet, I start with the high-concept, commercial, animated family project?!?!?! I must be smokin’ somethin’ illegal, man.

But here is the crazy part. The only thing that seems to be giving me any comfort in this crazy whirlwind is a profound question that I haven’t asked myself since I was 16 years old: Who am I? I am not one who believes in chance. At least, not anymore. I’ve experienced too much hardship in my life and drowned in the depths of my own vices to feel truly “dead”, like a walking zombie. And remarkably, I “gave up” and felt the warmth and comfort of a Love beyond this world. I felt lifted. I felt comforted. I felt changed. (At least for a moment). I mush have been smokin’ somethin’ illegal! I’m kidding. But there was a time in my past years ago when I finally felt “found”. And the defining question of “Who am I” had a clear answer. That clarity is a place I’m realizing I am missing.

It’s like when I visit my parent’s house. There always seems to be this point where I am ready to leave. I think, “Gawd, get me out of this crazy house!” And when I leave, it is pure refreshment! Finally, I am free! My spirits are high and it seems the air is clear. What starts as days becomes weeks, then months, and then years. And lo’ and behold, here I am spending a long time away from home without missing it. Then, when I finally succumb to my “son” or “brothery” duties of visiting family, I am knocked head over heals by the purity and nostalgia of “family”. I realize how much I needed them.

That is what is happening to me now. As I ask the question, “Who am I?” I feel the quiet invisible tugs of an Answer that runs so deep in my soul that I forget that it has probably been there this whole time. I am led to an answer. It is calling me home. And as I entertain this thought, I am feeling something nostalgic. I am feeling something refreshing. I am feeling something that I forgot I have been missing.

My life is currently clogged with finding work, taking care of my wife, and pushing forward the dream. But in order to balance this all and make sense of what is happening, I sit quietly in my own madness and find myself at the eye of my own hurricane. A sun is shining down and the winds are dying for just a moment so I can hear the answer to that question. It is finding me now, as I am writing this. My soul is weak. It needs this sustenance. And I feel the refreshment, as if drinking a freshly squeezed glass of orange juice in a body riddled with disease and toxins.

I ask, waiting for an answer. Waiting for The Answer. And this is what I MUST do before I write. And to be honest, at this point…I don’t feel like writing. I want to sit here in the eye of the story and enjoy it as much as I can before the winds and the rain pick up again.