hello my loves
It’s been a while as usual since I wrote a big long letter about life and the adventures it’s taken me on, so I figure Valentine’s day’s night (not too many chances to get double-astrophe-s’s) is a great time to feel the love and share it with you all.
Too bad for you though. Because I feel a little crappy. Life has thrown me quite a curveball over the past 6 months or so, with some big highs and big lows and many slices of humble pie and a lot of mystery that has made me think, wow, life is way more mysterious than I thought it was.
I seriously thought, last time I wrote you, that I had figured life out in a way. I guess that was probably the crux of the issue to begin with. Perhaps too much certainty makes life go HAH! Either way, I write you now with a slightly furrowed brow, wondering what the hell this rollercoaster ride *IS* that I signed up for.
HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY 
Anyway, first things first. I’ll try to sum up a lot of stuff real quick-like for the scanners and skimmers amongst you. I have a wonderful lover and am in the longest relationship I have ever been in. Our one year anniversary was precisely one week ago. I went to Burning Man. I moved away from Los Angeles and am living in Willamsburg, Brooklyn, land-of-the-hip-and-the-cool, of whose ranks I have not felt so much a part. My dance group Elastic Illusion done blew up and we all went our separate ways, I have put my eggs in the street performing basket, I have realized that the only game in town for me is consciousness transformation and sharing love and spirituality, I just did a living statue gig tonight at a bar and realized (again) I really don’t like bars or alcohol. Let’s see what else. I did go homeless for sometime between 7 and 10 days and it was really at that point that my whole life blew up. I thought it was gonna be easy and it was anything but. I did a 10-day silent meditation retreat after christmas that was very profound but that stillness feels somewhat far away at the moment. I have gone even further into the deep end with all the alien stuff and channeling and nature-of-reality-is-way-crazier-than-we-are-collectively-imagining-right now. I have learned a lot more about video production and motion graphics and graphic design. My girlfriend VV is currently visiting my mom in Maine so I am living by myself for the first time in my life and I am dead broke, more dead broke than I’ve ever been, which of course adds to the furrowed brow thing (I must say though, that when you’re dead broke, you REALLY get to see abundance in action, cuz food and support just keeps popping up seemingly out of thin air). I have reconnected with Jews since coming to New York and realized (again) I love Jews..
and oh yah, I have recently realized that in so many ways, for my ENTIRE LIFE I have thought that anything I do, especially artistically, that is in any way unique or original, is bad. It’s like I’ve found a whole new wellspring of low-self-esteem and self-hatred and lack-of-self-acceptance to mine (like dig, not mine like yours). But! I also know that since fertilizer is made of shit, this is ultimately a good thing, but the furrowed brow doesn’t seem to buy it!
AHHH! Well, that felt good to be all honest like that and not just be chipper and act like it’s all good. I mean, it IS all good, but it’s a BITTER sort of all good, rather than a sweet one. Speaking of which, I am also 15 days into a 30-day no sugar experiment, which is surprisingly awesome and revealing. That sugar stuff is CRACK I tell you. I had no idea til I cut it out. After telling some friends about it, they helped me expand the idea, and I’m going to do 1 30-day experiment per month from now on. Next month is one yoga class a day. I have spent so much time (like 7 years now) trying to become flexible through meditation and energy work, I figured, might as well try the way you’re SUPPOSED to do it and actually STRETCH everyday! And speaking of that, I am still doing my daily sun salutations and am up to 3 per day now. This is making my body look sexier and more defined, which is nice in that Western-culture-intense-vanity-coupled-with-debilitating-insecurity-sort-of-way.
In addition to this, since I’ve come to New York, I have been taking a lot of classes. I took a 5-day intensive “Drawing on the RIght Side of the Brain” drawing class, and realized drawing is a lot more math than magic. I am taking popping dance classes and voguing dance classes and African dance classes, a beatbox class, and 2 kung fu classes per week.
And the funny thing is, I still feel like I’m not doing anything. That furrowed brow is not impressed by my list here. Well, maybe at least YOU will be impressed.
I’ve read all these books and learned all these things over the years now and I think the furrowed brow is there partially because it’s sinking in to me that this little rollercoaster ride we call life isn’t really headed anywhere in particular. I’m accumulating all these checkmarks naively thinking that it’s adding up to something, but it keeps hitting me that it ISN’T HEADED ANYWHERE. It is what it is. The only REAL thing about it is my actual EXPERIENCE of it. This is most certainly WHY all the saints and sages are constantly preaching that present moment mumbo jumbo. Cuz time is a god damn invention. And so are DAYS. This one being numbered 14 and the next one 15. It gives you this sense of progression. And at least at this moment, the coaster seems to just go in a big circle, smiling (or is that a smirk?) all the while.
I guess that will serve as my little rant on life for this issue and I will go back to updates.
So the thing is, the real reason this furrowed-brow-metaphor-that-is-actually-happening-as-I-write-this keeps coming up is because of the street performing thing. Part of the reason that Elastic Illusion turned into an elastic illusion, in retrospect, is that I am FREAKING TERRIFIED of performing. I had no idea. It’s like it’s gotten worse as I’ve gotten more skilled or something. I don’t know exactly what the deal is, but this has been some CRAZY intense fear I’ve been working with over the past month. My daddy who I think is smart tells me that as long as I keep growing and expanding this is going to keep happening, which, if the past is any reference, seems true, so I’ve tried a new way of dealing with it. Rather than beating myself up for oh, let’s say, not leaving the house in 3 days because I’m too scared, I just keep telling myself that I love me. I love you Brit. That sort of thing. Now, I must say, this has not made the fears go away, but it’s at least an experiment, and lord knows I love a good experiment.
Anywho, I have barely street performed at all, and my soul is singing and calling and begging and pleading me to get out there and street perform. On the subway platform, just dance my heart out and preach consciousness transformation. I had been working on a show and all that. Some lame schtick right. And so tonight, THIS VERY NIGHT, there was a fire performer at the gig I was doing, and she performed twice, and she was quite good. Very entertaining, very engaging, very pretty and skilled, all the good stuff right. BUT! It’s the same damn show every time. She has gags that work every time just the way she planned. She does her tricks in the same order, makes the people laugh, makes them say OOOOOH at just the same spot, and I realized, I would really rather jump into cubicle hell then do that.
SO, my soul and my being and my essence is calling for me to go out into the world and perform and dance for strangers and tell them that they ARE the essence of God itself. That their creativity is unlimited, that their capacity for love and joy and growth and acceptance and hugs knows ABSOLUTELY NO BOUNDS for they ARE the infinite. To feel those things that I say so deeply that I MYSELF cry in their presence, but not tears of weakness, tears of oneness. And then to smile to them and get funky and do some mime and the whole 9 yards. To just improv the whole thing. To turn life into this neverending improv jam.
And I just feel a little stuck, a little out of tune, and HUGELY TERRIFIED. Who the hell am I to do this? What the hell do I know? I’m a guy sitting at home on Valentine’s day behind a computer with a furrowed brow who isn’t even EMBODYING the joy he’s telling everyone else about, and yet every ounce of my body is telling me to get out and do this. To spread it into the world and to be my own unique little cog in our beautifully-deranged-wheel-of-humanity.
I just saw an amazing (saintly even!) friend of mine last weekend for the first time in 2 years and said friend mentioned to me that every single person I know, and more than likely, every single person I have even EVER SEEN, is no more than a sampling error in the census of humanity. For some reason, this struck me in a way that cliche things like that usually don’t, and I realized that all the stuff I read about, that there are no coincidences, that you are always sitting next to the EXACT person you are supposed to be sitting next to, that there is a real ORCHESTRATION going on, is actually true. Because I have only met 1/100 of 1% of humanity. .01%. So all of you that I am writing to right this instant, and the names and faces are flying by as I speak. We’ve walked this path so many times together.
And especially in these times, when all my cool confidence and LIFE-SURE-IS-GREAT-ISN’T-IT enthusiasm have all gone south for the winter, I am so grateful for you all. I cherish all the beautiful moments that we have shared together and I bless you with peace and self-love and the ability to immerse yourself RIGHT DEEP DOWN INTO THE HEART OF THE WHOLE SHEBANG.
i truly truly truly truly love you
Brit
P.S. part of the whole realizing I haven’t loved myself so much thing is that every time I’ve sent out an e-mail like this in the past, it’s felt so egotistical. Well, lucky for me, it doesn’t anymore. So I’m gonna shoot for sending one out a month from now on. Cuz I LOVE WRITING ABOUT MYSELF!!! HUZZAH FOR ME!
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