Bam! Yet ANOTHER project

As some of you may know, I attended Comic Con a few weeks ago.  What many of you do not know is that my background in video games is only proceeded by comic books.

Growing up, my family, in particular my father, has had a love for books.  Dad would hand me books since before I could read.  He told me tales of fantasy and these larger than life characters.  My mother never understood this aspect.  I truly believe dad may have been doing it partially to piss her off.

They are now divorced and happier.  She lives in Illinois still with her new husband.  Dad lives in suburbia Los Angeles in the dreaded 909.

The comic books that I collected growing up are currently stored in a trunk in a garage at my mother’s home.  I am actually quite amazed that they are still there, regardless of whichever condition that they may be in.  You see, my mother burned the baseball cards I collected at the time.

Dad’s house is like another world entirely.  Everywhere you look is traces of his fixation with comic books.  He has a full bedroom for my son that is nothing but Spiderman.  Dad is a big kid at heart.  He frequents comic shops weekly.  He raised me on books like Tales from the Crypt, Batman, and Spiderman.

Uncle Jay & I in my sons Spiderman Room

Uncle Jay & I in my son's Spiderman Room

Despite my recent cosplay endeavor, I wasn’t always a Supergirl fan.  Dad wasn’t interested in Superman.  It seems that you are either a Batman fan or a Superman fan.  We were the former.  The new Detective Comics featuring Batwoman are currently in my monthly “must pick up list.”  Superman still has of yet to make a regular home for me.

However even back then I really didn’t partake as much from the mainstream comic book lines.  There has always been a draw for me to the artistically popping, underdogs of indie comic books.  Maybe that’s why I was rebellious growing up.  Maybe that’s why, to a degree, I still am.  It feels awesome to be a cliche.

After the convention I began to re-evaluate where my passions were.  While I do love video games, I have found that the community within the comic book industry has some very important things to offer me that, well video games really don’t for me- timelessness and a foundation in encouraging literacy and imagination in its execution.

I found myself looking back.  At my own childhood.  Of sitting on shoulders with loose teeth as my dad pointed to superheroes on comic books.

In present day, I have passed these things to my children as well.  I encourage my son to read comic books.  And, while he may go with his grandfather and read those mainstream books, he also reads indies with his mother.

my son reading The Edge a story within Volume 3 of the comic Flight

my son reading "The Edge" a story within Volume 3 of the comic "Flight"

I realized that I had not been completely true to myself.  Perhaps part of the reason why I never felt at ease or why it didn’t just all fall into place was that.  I was denying myself the potential to reach further.

When I went to Comic Con, I was representing Girls Entertainment Network.  And while I am thankful for the opportunity I had to work with them, I have come to realize that I have a different vision for how I would like to proceed with my venture into comic book journalism.

Approximately 2 years ago I purchased a series of domains for various projects that I was considering.  I had been mulling over the thought about a comic book site for some time but never made the jump into it.

I went to a movie showing of the 1943 rare Batman serial and an exhibit this weekend on the Golden Age of comic books over at the Skirball Cultural Center.  It reminded me so much about what we, as a culture, have lost, what we have gained, and what remains the same though it may have a different face.

It was profound and moving with its subtleties and brash overtones.

The time has come.  The past doesn’t always have to be so scary.  Neither does the future.  It’s time they shook hands.

I will continue to write freelance for comic book realted sites, but am also gathering steam for what I need to make a website that I believe will be something I am proud of.  Please stay tuned for further information about my site: Superficially Iconic: “a site for comic book intellectuals.. and everyone else too.”

The skys the limit oh dear Superfriend of mine.

The sky's the limit oh dear Superfriend of mine.

See you at Long Beach Comic Con.  And now I have to get ready for a superhero birthday party… Marvel turned the big seven-oh today don’t you know?

Parables: The power in simplicity

There was not a moon hung in the sky that night as the friends made their way to the evening’s festivities.  Blurred wavelengths of color mark the streets as they weave in and out of traffic.  Like a painter gracefully presses their brush along a canvas, this is their dance.  It is their silent impact.  It is their passion and fervor embracing their fast past turning world.

I

was

here.

If only for a moment.

If only for these moments.

Plates and silverware clink amidst the roars and hushes of chatter at a local spot by the beach.  The pair break through the sound and enter.  They are eager for this time of relaxation and the company of friends.

It is like every cliche night in Los Angeles.  Even when business is over for the day, it is still business as usual.  If anything, it is the kind of night where the most business happens just as much as it is about relaxing.

We sat there and ate cake and drank a few rounds.  We smiled.  We laughed.  Everyone was enjoying the company.  Everyone was enjoying the chatter.

A drink sits lonesome by at the end of the table.

“Whose is this?”

“He’s coming to join us.”

A man in black with an apron slung around his waist approaches the table.

“It will be about 15 minutes before I am done with my shift.  I have to do some paperwork.  I’ll be right over.”

“Come have your drink.”  the group insists.

“Not yet.  I’m on the clock and I have my integrity.”

The drink glows in the moonlight and sings its own silent overture to the starless sky above them.

He finished his shift and pulled a chair over.  The party was not complete for the evening.  However, this is the point when it started to get more real.  Every single other person on there was highly involved within a specific scene, even if their places in line were not the same.  The server was the odd person out in the group.

I asked him simple questions.

Icebreakers.

I wanted to make sure he felt fully included.

“Where did you work before this job?  Is this the job that you would like to have or are you an actor?”

It was very cliché.  I was very… rude actually.

“I lived in Vermont.” he said.

“But what did you do there exactly?” I asked him again.

He stated to tell his story.  He was trying so hard to belong to the group.

“I was working in computers.”

“But what in computers?”

The table echoed with questions pertaining to various fields.

“I was working a help desk.”

More questions as to specifics.

In a way, I felt bad.  Not because of his answers.  Not because But because we were so to the T about his responses yet the majority of us are entrepreneurs.  Our work and dreams are similar to this man’s, even if they aren’t always the same.

He turned the discussion to the rest of the table.  One by one, like an AA meeting, we all spoke about our jobs and stated our names.

Entrepreneur.  PR. Consulting. Etcetera.

The flashlight came my way and I failed.  As I have so many hats on currently, what I didn’t say was what I knew the most.  I had spoken a lot about both but also relatively little, even if I had been verbose.  Succinctly there were only two answers that should have been said.

“I  am a writer.  Sometimes it’s for money.  Sometimes it’s not.  But it’s always with heart.”

Transpose the word artist for writer and have the same answer.

Sometimes things shouldn’t have to be so wordy or complex.  There is so much complexity in the purity.  But only if you look inwardly for it and only if you listen.  I have learned that being dynamic is like constantly being on stage.  You have to be bold.  You have to be brazen.  You have to be fully aware of what you are.

You have to…

You have to…

You have to….

“I  am an artist.  Sometimes it’s for money.  Sometimes it’s not.  But it’s always with my heart- fully open and susceptible to being broken and put back together again and again in every single thing that I do.”

Because that is who I am and that’s what I am proud of.  Every.  Single.  Day.

Prose: Untitled focus

“Enjoy the concert.  Here’s hoping this guy makes you smile.” he said as I was preparing to leave.

A text message from another world came in… what he didn’t know, was that I was already glowing.

“I don’t need a dude to have a good time.”  I told him.

And I didn’t.

And I don’t.

I realized that anything above and beyond that, regardless if worked out or not, was just a bonus.

It has taken me a long time to get here, but I’ve finally arrived.

This is who I am.

This is who I want to be.

It’s nice to meet

… me.

My eyes are open.

My heart is as well.

Love is a battlefield.  You don’t have to retreat but you have to keep your shield up, even if it is a weapon as the Spartans say.

I am prepared to be the person I have always wanted to be…

I am prepared to learn the lessons and experience the pain and the levity without prejudice.

Because that is how you get stronger.

Because that is how you progress.

With a concrete squishy heart…

With eyes wide open…

I know that anything is possible.

All I need

“A man in the desert still searches for water.”

Wise words from a friend of mine when telling him a bit of the back story.

A story not to grace these pages today.

I know what I want.  It’s a very specific catch.

Very very specific.

Why does a man in  the desert still quest for water?

Simple.

Only when you’re stripped away of everything, can you see exactly what you want.. what you need.. to survive.

“I think perhaps everyone needs to take that journey.” I told him.

“Funny you mention that.  I do that often.  I did it recently actually.”

I smiled and made a face at him.

“What’s that face mean?”

“Tease.”

I know what I want.  It’s a very specific catch.

Very very specific.

I think a drive is in order.

Strong Enough

A few weeks ago I was on a rooftop with someone dear to me & a woman in a cafe started singing this.  So we danced. And for one moment it was wonderful, even though it was nothing but a moment.

I oftentimes find myself wondering now if I will ever find the right man who will love me unconditionally and.. well deal with the fact that I’m not perfect.  I thought I found that man a few times.

Perhaps I really had found him.

Or perhaps it was a mirage.

I always seem to hold onto the ones that people seem to tell me I should let go.  I don’t believe in hopeless causes. I… I’m realizing by the small things that people do, that I’m worth more than I gave myself credit for.  This is not to say that I think I am better than anyone else.  It is simply saying… I’ve learned that I am capable of receiving some amazing acts of devotion from all of my relationships- which are happily reciprocated in the ways that I can.

I think it’s easy to forget just how much those little things mean.  It’s ironic because the very acts are simple in it of themselves.

Perhaps it’s why I love sending postcards so much.

Or smiling at everyone I see.

If it makes their day even remotely as much as it makes mine when I receive one, then I’m doing alright.

Are chivalry and romance really dead or is it just hibernating? Believe it or not, it exists here in LA.

I’ve been very fortunate.  I’ve experienced a spectrum of emotions.

  • I’ve gone on terrible dates.
  • I’ve gone on absolutely AMAZING dates.
  • I’ve been a spoiled brat.
  • I’ve been happily poor and just warm enough with love.

When will that man that’s strong enough step forward and show it?

Probably when I say… I’m strong enough not to need one either way.  But damn it would be amazing to have a partner in crime sometimes.

The War

Something happened yesterday that I won’t be getting into this posting. Something happened that I will however.

The ball dropped. Was it the other shoe?

For reasons unknown

For reasons I’d like to believe in

I know that I’m going to be alright.

The number 4 is now a prominent figure.. fading in and out like a neon sign on a dive bar.

But trinity would be close behind. As the rise and fall of one gasp of the fourth seems to not know for sure if they indeed want to be a contender.

There’s a war going on inside my head.

One of passion and desire. One of things I cannot say. One that I’ve said to a handful of people.

I walk alone.

In the distance, the quiet roar of the freeway. The rain drops on me and all I want to do is lay in bed.

But I can’t.

I have to get up. I have to move out of my comfort zone.

I have to find the right path that will lead me…

to you?

to you?

to you?

to you?

to me?

I’m being haunted even in my daydreams. Driving around. I see reoccurances of the same car. Your car. Perhaps it’s coincidence.

But then it’s followed by yet another sign.

Of 444’s and hope…

Destiny. Fate. Someone is watching over me. I’m in the right place. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

There’s a war going on inside my head.

One of passion and desire. One of things I cannot say. One that I’ve said to a handful of people.

I walk alone.

In the distance, the quiet roar of the freeway. The rain drops on me and all I want to do is lay in bed.

But I can’t.

I have to get up. I have to move out of my comfort zone.

I have to find the right path that will lead me…

Project Reorganization:The Balancing Act, episode 1

Once upon a time

In a galaxy.. not so far away…

(Hell I oftentimes feel like Los Angeles is another galaxy after living in San Diego, so give me a break!)

There once was a girl who

Was a bit of a socialite.

Perhaps too much.

And while the parties were grand and the people wonderful… for some reason, it just wasn’t enough.  She just wasn’t enough.

And then something happened.

Something remarkable.

Something that you really cannot truly explain with mere answers.

It just was was what it was.

Into the rabbit holes she entered and just as quickly returned.

Of heartache and levity and realization.

Realizing that everything she ever knew was wrong.

Realizing that it was also right.

She pushed further.

She pushed harder.

She changed the cards of her destiny.

Perhaps she was always meant to.

Perhaps they were all always waiting for that day.

She arrived at the destination

and found it was merely the beginning of the journey.

Today was like every other day.

But there is no day like today.