Long Time, No See

Hello folks!

spacer concert, the lamplighter lounge, feb. 2022

The interweb is a weird place for connection, right? I found myself at the beginning of this year absorbed with the content on my social media feeds, distracting myself from what was in front of me, only concerned with how to “trick the algorithm to be seen.” Well, that does me a disservice doesn’t it? It’s been almost two months now since I logged off my social media accounts and frankly, I love it. Sure, there is FOMO present. “What if I miss some sort of big news?” “How will I know what my friends are doing?” “Am I still involved in my loved ones’ lives if I do not like and retweet their posts?”

I found that connecting with folks via text messages, phone calls, and good old in-person get togethers fulfill all my needs I sought to “nourish” in an online space. With my specific generation, I remember a time where my presence did not exist online to a time where it only existed online. I enjoy the comfort I found logging off my social media, shifting my focus to who and what was in front of me instead of lusting of who or what could be in front of me. But here I am, writing a blog post on the interweb. Why is that?

gaycation 2022


What I would like to do is curate all my online content on this website. Establish my own format in this digital space and cut out the desire to “compete” with “content” on my various feeds. Everything laid out right here, on my terms. Also, don’t you love reading through a blog post? A digital diary if you will. For any future collaborator, friend, loved one, or wandering stranger online, this blog is for you to take a peek into my little personal life.

I found in this portion of my sobriety journey how important it is for me to be completely vulnerable and honest with my loved ones. I want to nourish our relationships and form true connections, not something surface level, not a presentation of a false enigma of myself that I’ve created to preserve my ego. A practice in that is opening up in an informal setting like this. So much of social media is a curated to attract a certain audience or present the best version of ourselves to draw appeal to a potential job hire. But do I really want to work with someone who wants a false version of myself?

I don’t want the fear of rejection to prevent me from living an authentic life. So much of being an artist in a digital age means constructing a version of ourselves that will be widely marketable as opposed to understanding what communities we serve and create for. I’d much rather maintain relationships with collaborators who meet me where I’m at and I return the gesture. That makes for a more enjoyable experience and is a prevention tactic against burn out. (At least in my book).

trip to nashville, apr. 2022

Right now I’m moving through various work projects in the Marketing Department at Playhouse on the Square, spending time with loved ones on the weekends and in the evenings. I’m loving the spring air in Memphis, TN. Spring in Memphis is magical, I can’t explain the feeling in the air. The warm breeze in the evenings, the majestic sunsets that fall over the Mississippi River, the streets of Midtown live with people looking to soak in all the good energy the sunny days of April/May have to offer.

I’m content with where I’m at. So much of me longed to run back to New York City post Lockdown, having left the city abruptly due to Broadway’s shutdown. I now know that I don’t need to exist in that space to feel validated as an artist. I work full-time in theatre, a blessing if you ask me. I have a comfy home, I’m surrounded by folks who love and support me, I have all my basic needs. Life is so much more enjoyable when taking gratitude in what I have as opposed to what I’m “missing.” It’s good to take inventory of how I can improve my state of being. I have to remember, however, to not leave myself dissatisfied with where I’m at. I remind myself that I am exactly where I wanted to be 5 years ago. Right now, I can’t ask for more than what I already have.

Previous
Previous

cruel summer vol. 1