All posts filed under: Dreams

Full-time

I can vividly recall the moment I decided I wanted to become a writer. I was sitting in a tan corduroy chair inside a cramped college dorm room. I was rereading Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. It was at that moment that I realized I saw the world just as Huxley did. And I thought this might mean I should write novels, too. Of course, at the time, I was also very interested in photography and film and understanding that a degree in Creative Writing might not pay any bills, I ultimately decided to study Mass Communications. It took me some time to come back around to writing books, but ever since then, I’ve wanted to write full time. Even then, I understood writing novels would most likely mean writing other things in support of that endeavor. But the reality is I’m not entirely sure I want to write articles for a magazine like Cat Fancy just to say that I’m a full-time writer. (I’m allergic to cats.) At times, I fear this means …

Surfing

I might be interested in learning to surf because it’s one of the few outdoor sports I’ve yet to engage with fully. I’ve kayaked, rock climbed, spelunked, mountain biked, and more, but I live just a bit too far inland to take up surfing. Surfing, like most other sports, has its own culture. But the culture displayed in, say, rock climbing doesn’t have quite the same allure to me. I mean, there’s no Beach Boys for rock jocks. The closest thing I can think of is maybe John Denver’s “Rocky Mountain High,” which isn’t exactly on point. Don’t misunderstand. There are elements of surf culture that don’t interest me. Supercharged testosterone can be annoying in any arena, but the truth is that I typically imagine myself surfing all by myself. I’m alone on the glassy water—rising and falling with the swells and riding the wave break into shore. I’ve heard the ocean described as a temple in a surfing flick before, and I can relate to standing before the sea and experiencing something spiritual. And …

Filmmaker

For most of my twenties, I actively pursued film directing as a vocation. I wrote several full-length screenplays. And I wrote and directed a number of short films that debuted in festivals. One of those shorts was even promoted on an IFC program titled Media Lab Shorts Uploaded. But after one particularly disastrous shoot, in which the film I was working on wasn’t even finished, I began to think I’d left my true vocation behind. I wanted to be a novelist, and that seemed to be showing in the stress I felt on set as well as an increasing lackluster when it came to corralling actors. Before that shoot, I bought a Krasnogorsk-3 so I could try shooting 16mm film. It was shipped in via eBay from Ukraine. And it’s the same camera I believed was used by undergraduates at USC film school. That camera is still sitting on my bookshelf. And I’ve kept it there over the past decade for good reason. My dream of becoming a filmmaker is bound up inside of it. …

Galaxie 500

I have a dream where I’m driving around in an early 1960s Galaxie 500 (or Dodge Dart of a similar year). And I’m just cruising. Now, when I say dream, I don’t necessarily mean that it’s happening at night. It’s very much a daydream. I hate to sound like someone who says, “They don’t make ’em like they used to,” but that is kind of what I’m saying. I imagine myself wearing a straw fedora with a black band and a pair of Ray-Bans. All the windows are down, and I’m listening to Dick Dale play surf guitar… It’s a daydream. The reality of this dream is constant break downs and frustration. Sure, if I loved cars enough to spend every weekend working on one, it might be worth it. Perhaps one day, I’ll be willing to do that. But then there’s the gas mileage. That’s the troubling part about dreams. When you wake up, you start to see the impossibilities. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a dreamer. But some dreams require, at least, a …