As some may know, at the beginning of the year I did the Artist's Way handbook. It was certainly interesting, and it inspired me to see my life more creatively than I already did. In the end, the book asks that you identify two people to be your creative allies for the year and to check in with them each week on a creative level. I easily chose the friend that I am currently working on a project with. But then as my other ally, I chose someone who I admire creatively, but rarely see. Well, since I put him down in the book, we have started talking weekly and last night had an amazing dinner at the restaurant where he works. And in the midst of a bottle of wine and an amazing raspberry souffle, I realized the importance of a creative ally and how excited I was to have made a commitment to such a relationship.

My life has always found me happiest when surrounded by creative types. I went to a performing arts high school, which was more home to me than my actual home. In college, I had a theatre company, whose members became my San Francisco family. And now, working at a film studio, I constantly get to surround myself with minds and conversations immersed in the creative flow. It's sort of a prerequisite for me if you're gonna be close to my heart. One just has to be a little bit crazy in the artsy sort of way.

So, last night, we were talking and laughing and drinking a whole lot and laughing some more, and my friend and I got into a discussion of the future. We both have career paths we are hoping to walk that we feel passionate about, and we were just going off on where we see each other going. So he says to me, "Angel, not to sound pretentious, but I am very particular about who I choose to enter my life as a friend. And I am really glad that I picked you. And that's not just the bottle of wine talking."

To some it could sound funny, but for me, knowing that I had done the same by writing his name down in the book made it all seem so natural. We sort of riffed on the fact that allowing too many people into your life can be draining, and that it is key to choose your friends wisely. Especially in the industry of film and L.A., some of your friends right now will become the future colleagues you work with in the future, and you will want to work and plat with the best of them.

In this age of Friendster and My Space, it's good to be reminded that to build solidly is to build on quality, and not quantity. I can easily get wrapped up sometimes in wanting to look busy, when it's not key to being socially important. What is important is to have people in your world who affirm the life that you want to live, not distract it. I want to succeed in this life, and I'm looking for inspiration to do so. And I am certainly not holding out for a hero anymore. I am just going to be in the business of surrounding myself with everyday heroes. And I am proud to say that thus far, in this L.A. life I am now living, I am pretty damn blessed already with the people in my life. And that's not just the bottle of wine talking either.

It's the raspberry liquer I had after it.

What about it?

"Yes. You need to lighten up. A bit."

I have a friend who doesn't conceal the truth from me. Ever. If I need a "cut to the bone" answer about something, I usually confide in him as he is the source of most truthful wisdom. Not to say he has not been wrong before, but even Oprah and Madonna mess up from time to time. So when I was feeling as if I might be a little uptight, I asked him.

"Do you think I'm uptight?" He responded with the above answer, and then smiled. "But just a bit." I knew there that he was lying.

Since I went through this whole mind/body/spirit transformation during my last years in San Francisco, I have believed myself to be a pretty open and free individual. Before then, I had a problem with anxiety, and I didn't find any reason to trust others' intentions. But feeling that I have now moved beyond that, I haven't seen myself of late as an "uptight" guy in need of loosening. However recently, I have begun to see how tense I get in certain situations, and that I get very easily wound up when I have to face a situation where my nerves are rattled. And it sucks, because I don't want to be that guy. I like the idea that I have recently had of me best - the Angel who's all chill and confident. Not this crazy who needs to "loosen up. A bit."

In all reality, I am going to be thirty next year, and I don't want to end my twenties a ball of pent-up emotional anxiety. See, I realize that a lot of my frustrations stem from my lack of emotional control. Or perhaps my attempts at trying to over-control my emotions. Perhaps it is all of this self-analysis that causes me to be so crazy. Or it could all just be from the fact that I haven't had sex in far too long to remember. I don't know. What I do know is that letting go and laughing is one of my favorite things to do. Dancing helps me relax. Working out in general. I love a good glass of wine and a chat (which I have planned for tonight - yay!) And just letting my body breathe.

I just need to let my body breathe. Stretch. Shake. And then let it go.

And stop thinking so much.

Trust my process and have faith.

And maybe get laid.

What about it?

1998. The year Ray of Light came out. I'll always remember, because it was also the year that I came out.

I remember sitting outside the Tower Records in Stonestown with my girlfriend at the time. We had each just bought a copy and we had our discmen and our headphones. She made us synchronize our copies so that we would be hearing the first notes together. 21 and ready to listen to what I had been told by critics was the greatest Madonna album ever made. As the first sounds of Drowned World (Substitue for Love) started, I remember thinking, "Oh yes, I am gonna like this." I also remember us staring each other, both of our mouths wide in awe. We both loved it, my girlfriend and I. The new Madonna album. That we both ditched class to go and get together. I had already planned on it - I thibnk she tagged along. "Good idea." I mean, she had to know, right? Three weeks later, I told her that I could not see her anymore. I was gay. She was devastated. I was free.

Listening to Ray of Light now, I get a sense of redemption. That first song comes on me like a church hymn. It is one of the best pieces of music I think she has ever crafted. Layered, but with simplicity. Honest in its lyrics. And challenging in its structure. Also by the way, able to induce "coming out". Will we play this for our future children when we question them? "Little Rafi just might be gay. Let's play him 'Frozen' and see what he does."

Regardless, driving home tonight to this cd, I was struck with the personal grandeur of it all. This was the music that started it all. How thrilling. To have an artifact so directly related to this important moment in my history. I hope that everyone has a reminder of the times in their lives where they decided to be a little bit more themselves. It is these moments that will bookmark our biography. And I do really believe that everyone deserves a biography, as everyone's stories are all special and full of resonance and necessity. Further more, I hope that everyone has a chapter titled, "Ray of Light".

I wonder whatever happened to my girlfriend from 21. We have not kept in touch. I hope that she somehow looks back at that time with a recollection of awakening. And also that she knows that the world I was drowning in was none of her doing. Pain was my substitute for love. Not her.

I kept myself frozen. Like a Drumstick.

What about it?

I write a lot about love. Maybe that is why the movie of the same name kinda had a soft spot in my heart. That aside, I think it's time for me to bid the topic adieu for a bit. I have realized tonight that I muse on it so much because I feel that it is this elusive reality that I have never gotten to taste. I tell myself and others that I have never really been in love before. And I have been told by some that, "You just haven't been in a relationship. You'll understand someday." Bullshit. Sure I have not sustained a relationship for a long period of time or lived with someone or had a manic fight, but is that the definition of love? Do we let others lives define love for us, or do we let the life that we lead define love?

I imagine there are some universal truths to love. There are feelings that we all can relate to, where our heart melts in another's presence. But how is it that one can say what defines true love? One of my best friends, who always seemed to despise love, is now on the verge of moving in with her boyfriend. When she first told me, I thought to myself, "Well, is it too soon for all of this? I mean, shouldn't they be waiting at least a year before they move in?" However, as I watched them together, I realized that the love between them couldn't be judged by the "rules" set up by some starnger to them. Why not move in together, if that is what they are feeling? It's their love. They know it best. Which brought me to my conclusion about love and my own experience with it.

Someday, I will fall in love in a way that will define "deeply in love" for me. But until then, I can no longer tell myself that I have never been in love. I have. I have been in love, and I have been pained by its loss. I have been overwhelmed by it's joy. I have even had the great opportunity to taste its kiss. But my love looks like no one elses. Mine is not the kind that you see on television or in film. I think that is the kind of love that most people are struggling to create, which causes so much disappointment in love. Why doesn't ours look like the kind in "Love, Actually"? It sounds silly to think it, but haven't a few of us at some point compared our love life to that of Carrie Bradshaw's? We all want the romance and the passion. And we think that until we get it the way we imagine it should be, then we have not found "the one". Even if we are in a relationship, it's great, "but it needs a little fixing." However, we just have to learn more about who we are to know what "deeply in love" means to us, and not to the writers of "Notting Hill". Then we can start to comment on what is love and what isn't.

Can I truly retire the topic of love? Probably not completely. But I am retiring the quest, and the need that has driven a lot of my inquiry. Love is a mystery. Even those of us who know we have felt it still wonder why. It is the glorious explosion of emotion that every heart is capable of. Yes, including mine. And yours.

So, I am off to love. In silence.

What about it?

There comes a time when you have to know when to say when. In relationships, in work, and in life. We can allow ourselves to prolong inevitable endings simply because we are having too much of a good time. But eventually, truth rears its head and we have to face it. We have outgrown a lover, a friend, a job, a home. And then we are left with that grand moment of clarity, which is usually coupled with a deep sense of loss. Though we knew from the beginning that we weren't in it for the long haul, we still had a little faith that somewhere in this all, we would come out ahead in the end. But are we just afraid to lose something that feels so good, even though we know it is so completely wrong?

In the Rilo Kiley song, "Portions for Foxes", Jenny Lewis sings, "My friends all tell me to leave you...that you're bad news...but I still like you." She knows that her friends are right, but she is finding pleasure out of the cat and mouse game and its accompanying pain. And I think there is somthing to the idea that this pain makes one feel alive and important. I know that I have agonized over someone in the past who I just believed was right for me. But he never saw it, and he didn't really know my feelings for him for a really long time. In fact, to this day, he still doesn't know the emotional impact he has had on my life. Because there was a time that I believed it would all work out, and he would realize that I was the one. But did I really believe that? Or was I just addicted to the pain that I felt in actually knowing that it would never work out in my favor?

Fortunately for me, I am now at a place in my life where I am learning to really, truly feel. So with that, I have to deal with the holes I have made in the garden, so to speak. But I am dealing as best I can, and at my own pace. And I think the best, first step is to acknowledge that I have created a problem. And that no one else is to blame for the pain. I did it. I lived with it. And now I have to do what I have to do to correct it.

I realize now that when it comes to my heart, it is time to say when. My cup has runeth over. And I am still thirsty.

Jenny says, "There's blood in my mouth cause I've been biting my tongue all week." Well no more biting for me. I'll save the pain for the bedroom.

What about it?

"Today is the first day of the rest of my life." In dramatic moments, usually enhanced by a good buzz, I blurt this out to tell myself that I am starting a new chapter. I want to feel like I am constantly reinventing myself in order to justify the sometimes stagnant feeling of "Groundhog Day" my life takes on. But life should not need a personal occasion or life-altering occurence to allow for the feeling of renewal. Can't everyday be cause to turn a new leaf?

Last night, at a friend's fabulous birthday party, I had a moment of new beginning. Dozens gathered around the table as he blew out his candles. He asked us all to put a wish out there and that they would all come true. As he got all the candle flames out, everyone cheered, as each successful blow was one more step to wish fulfillment for them. When he was done, there was this sense of transcendence in the room. People hugged and gave kisses. I turned to the birthday boy and whispered, "It's like New Year's Eve." He smiled and agreed. It seemed the promise of a wish come true gave everyone something to celebrate. I know for me, it did. It gave the rest of the night a sense of wonder, and I had a really great time.

Upon arriving home to my room that earlier I had been told needed a makeover, I felt the groundhog sink its teeth back in. I wandered off to sleep and awoke to the usual seven AM sound of my roommate's cat crying at my door. I got up and escorted him to the front dor so he could go out and explore the morning. I passed back out only to come in and out of a slowly growing hangover state. I finally got up and crawl;ed out to meet my writing partner for coffee. Last night's feeling of new beginning afterglow that had followed the birthday cake celebration had now given over to a heavy-lidded morning hangover. The end of the day looked like a finish line. But as we spoke and laughed, and I tried to decide what I wanted to do with myself today, I thought about my night. And I thought about how good that feeling of possibility felt. And that this morning after feeling now of "nothing's exciting in my life" was boring and redundant. Sure, there's the hangover, but there's also the friends. And the day. And the wish I made last night. Maybe if I stop looking at my life as unexciting, it will become unexciting. And maybe I'll start to recognize the great exciting things that are already in it.

I have to admit that I have been lucky, and quite a few of my childhood birthday wishes have already come true. And the ones I m waiting on, I have a pretty good feeling about. So if I can learn to translate that optimism into every moment that I have, I may have a shot at being the dope ass man I know I can be. I know it's cliche, but today IS the first day of the rest of my life. And if all I do is some shopping and SNL with a friend, then what a great way to spend my first day here on earth. It' won't just be "Well, all that I did today was..." It will be, "I had the best day today." So I guess I got some shopping to do.

What about it?

Earlier today, I went to see the new film, Friends With Money, starring Jennifer Aniston, Catherine Keener, Joan Cusack, and Frances McDormand. It follows the lives of three women with money and their husbands. And then there is Jen, who has no money and no husband. They live and they laugh and they fight with their men and slowly figure the hard things out. But they also find time to pair up and talk about the others behind their backs, analyzing each others problems and unhappiness. It's a fairly entertaining and funny film, though for most of it you want to slap somebody on the screen. However, it raises a great point. So, yes, we all have problems. But are our problems so crystal clear to our best of friends? And if so, are they sharing the answers with each other, instead of with us?

The idea of a guy I spoke about earlier. Well, he crystalized into a reality for about all of two seconds. I can be a three date wonder every now and then. I asked a friend later, what was I doing wrong? "They only see you three times?" "Yes. And I now think they spend the entire second time trying to figure out how they'll end it come the third time." His boyfriend piped in. "Are you not putting out on the second date?" I told him no. Most of the time, these three appearances all occur in one week. I'm expected to drop trou in the first week? "Yes", he said. "Otherwise, they think you want a ring. And nobody wants to think about that in the first week." "So maybe I need to start putting out?", I ask him. "If you want to find a man who might stick around, you do."

That was yesterday. Today, I don't really care. I have no prospects, and I've taken a run, and I feel a lot more cool and confident about the fact that I have no relationship now. My heart will go on. But after this movie, I am wondering whether my friends are talking.

"Poor Angel. He's just so alone."

"If he doesn't start putting out on the first date, he's never gonna find a man."

"He just got a new job. He won't have time for anyone"

"I wanted to sleep with him once. Until I found out he was such a headcase."

I know that I am no Jennifer Aniston, and I am certainly not the pothead maid she plays in Friends With Money. But every now and then, it's a challenge to be the only single guy at the table. It's a challenge to be a gay man not looking to get laid in the first twenty minutes of a date. It's a challenge to feel like you know what you want, and to be proud of who you are, when your own friends with money tell you to start whoring to be happier.

Sure I'd like a man. But if it's not in my deck right now, it's not in my deck. Besides, don't I have some scripts to read?

And some friends to talk about?

What about it?

I once met an interesting guy, and we were talking and then kissing and then talking again, and the whole thing had the usual supernatural feeling that most of my intimate encounters tend to have. In our third round of talking and kissing, he told me that he liked me. "So far you like me. You don't know me all too well." Did I mention that we had met that night?

"True", he said. "So I guess I like the idea of you." That made me smile.

"God. I like the idea of you too."

"Well, I am glad the idea of you and me get along so well." We went into round four.

See, I get very worked up when I meet someone new, I am going for a new job (I got my new job by the way!), or I am moving in to a new place. I see the shadow of everything. The exterior. But of course, it really is just the idea of the situation that is so appealing. You get the new place with the gorgeous view of the Observatory and the redwood tree out front, move in, and find that ants also like the redwood tree and view too. The new job comes along, and you relish in the prestige of it, until you realize you have no idea what you're doing and the life you thought you had is gone in overtime and cocktail meetings.

However, there has to be an idea to allow for inspiration. And the inpiration gestates into a lot of hard work and time, so that in the end, a good creative soul can find him or her self staring at a brilliant piece of art. "It's a fixer-upper", you hear people say. Not that I want to be another man's weekend art project laying around the house, but I understand the fact that we all get enchanted by ideas. We are enticed by the promise of something, and that sometimes that idea can lead us to a dead end. But conversely, sometimes that idea leads us to the beginning of a road or a weekend art project that quickly becomes our life's passionate blood. So allowing the idea to become a living part of our lives can be fulfilling, no matter the outcome.

I have been a writer all of my life. A billion ideas have swam in and out of my mind. Some I bump into and want to revisit. Others are gone as quickly as the morning after a brief make-out encounter. Regardless, these have all laid seed to the man I am now. And that's a good thing. At least I think so.

What about it?

Amazing how a friend can hold your hand and walk you through the fire. With a great guide, you can come out untouched by the flames.

Yesterday, I pondered the question if everything does happen for a reason. I was beginning to wonder if too many "fuck ups" in life had hindered me on my path. And then I awoke this morning to a gentle reminder of an email from a very dear friend. In it, among other poignant beautiful words, she included what appeared to be a writing from a daily newsletter. I wanted to share it here with you. I don't know if it will touch you all in the same way - it may not be your cup of tea. But I thought, upon reading it, that it was spiritual truth. We can do nothing more than let go, and live. XOXO



Today's DailyOM brought to you by:
Angel Bracelets
January 16, 2006
Fully Committed To Now
"Why We Are Not Shown The Big Picture"

Sometimes, we may find ourselves wishing we knew what our lives are going to look like or what gifts and challenges are going to be presented to us in the coming months or years. We may want to know if the relationship we're in now will go the distance or if our goals will be realized. Perhaps we feel like we need help making a decision and we want to know which choice will work out best. We may consult psychics, tarot cards, our dreams, and many other sources in the hopes of finding out what the future holds. Usually, at most, we may catch glimpses. And even though we think we would like to know the whole story in all its details, the truth is that we would probably be overwhelmed and exhausted if we knew everything that is going to happen to us.

Just think of your life as you've lived it up to this point. If you are like most of us, you have probably done more and faced more than you could have ever imagined. If someone had told you as a child of all the jobs and relationships you would experience, along with each one's inherent ups and downs, you would have become overwhelmed. With your head full of information about the future, you would have had a very hard time experiencing your life in the present moment, which is where everything actually happens.

In many ways, not knowing what the future has in store brings out in us the qualities we need to grow. For example, it would have been difficult to commit yourself to certain people or projects if you knew they wouldn't ultimately work out. Yet, it was through your commitment to see them through that you experienced the lessons you needed to grow. Looking back on your life, you would likely be hard pressed to say that anything in your past should not have happened. In fact, your most challenging experiences with their inevitable lessons may have ultimately brought you the greatest rewards. Not knowing the future keeps us just where we need to be-fully committed and in the present moment.

"Everything happens for a reason."

That's what so many of us say. I know that I started to use it as a mantra back in SF, when I was working at the psychic bookshop. Before then, I thought that everything happened because I was cursed. But I grew to understand that things happened in our lives in order for us to grow and attain more self-realized wisdom.

However, I am wondering if mistakes don't all happen "for a reason". Could our spiritual goal be to learn from our mistakes, and sometimes we fail the test? Somethimes, things don't happen for a reason, but because we fucked up?

This is all plaguing my mind right now due to the job "audition" recently. Going for a job is like going for a date. You feel like there is a connection. You feel like you're getting each other. Perhaps it was love at first sight, only it happened on the second glance for him too. Anyhow, it is a position that I feel is like my hand to a cocktail - it fits. And though my shot at the job is in all actuality quite good, I still can't help but to mull over if there is something different I could have said or done to assure my chances of getting it. Could I have been wittier? More animated? Men like other men who are confident. Should I have been more cocky? Blow job?

If anything, what's done is done, and I should know I am talented and qualified enough to deserve it. But still, was this my test to prove everything I had learned and had I failed or passed? And if failed, would I have to go through another six month training course until the next test? Or would I pass on and move up to the next class, "Boyfriend - friend or foe?"

Perhaps we are being lead to different forks in the road and choosing our direction based on the way we react to a situation. I could have not worked at the book shop. I could have not moved back to L.A. I could get that job. Well however it is all working, I hope I am doing better than the C-average I had in high school. Or else I need a tutor.

What about it?