Character Portraits

It's been a stormy period of frustration lately.  Whenever my writing or my writing career feel a little stagnate, I turn to artwork to expel those electrons.

It's nice to be able to finish something and share it instantly.

MY BROTHER COLLIN

Took this photo on the left of my brother Collin a couple months ago.  His birthday is April 30th, so I'll post it to Facebook then.  In the meantime DON'T TELL HIM I MADE THIS!
(Don't worry.  He doesn't read this blog anyways.)

Collin moved out here in October from North Carolina, so now all of my brothers and I are in the same city.  I was initially worried about how he'd fare in the city of angels, but he joined UCB Improv and is turning into a superstar.  I'm super proud of him.  And somewhat envious of the mega-talented little circle of peers he's adopted.

TIF

My friend Tif and I used to make music together about 10 years ago when I lived in Florida.  She was the musical talent, and I the witty lyricist.  We sang funny little songs together that amused us to no end -- recording them in her room on her computer.

Then one day I realized I could neither sing nor play guitar, and quickly turned my entire attention to Film School.  That was the day the music died.

Earlier this month, Tif came out to visit me in LA and stay on my couch.  We hadn't seen each other in nearly a decade.  Awkward.  But not really.  We still cray after all these years.

Sometimes Tif dresses up and models.  This photo showed off a whole new side of her and I knew I had to capture it.  (tracer)

THE BEAST

I was stuck and discouraged working on a short play in February that was taking too long and producing limited results.  After reading some Shakespeare, I decided on a lark to take on a story that had been stewing in my head as a collection of dark, gothic, fairy tale images.  I had no idea if I could write anything within the world I had visualized, but I sat down and started typing... experimenting...

What began to develop was a play so chock full of language, sex, poetry and darkness that I was almost embarrassed of its existence.  That's how I knew I might be writing something great.  A good old fashioned "Fuck You if you don't like it" piece that was breathing and kicking with wild, brazen life.

It's freaked some people out, for sure.  But The Beast above was a character worth realizing: a metaphor for all those abused children who grow up without the understanding of intimacy, love or trust.

There's hope for those beasts yet.