Vanity or sanctuary?
Thursday, January 20th 2022
Finally, finally, finally, I was going to see a film set at Warner Bros studio in Burbank. As much as I'd been looking forward to it, I was mostly impacted by the Uber Driver that picked me up. It was a lovely lady, born in the Netherlands but raised in the US. She was the first person in this country to pronounce my name correctly without instructions. She was the second person I met who was an aspiring actor, but is now mainly functioning as an extra.
It got me thinking: We're not that different from each other. I dream of publishing novels and screenplays. That's also a big dream that most people shy away from. Still, hearing her dream caused stress in my brain, just thinking about it. Somehow, I have faith in my conviction, yet I doubt the probability of becoming a succesful actor. People must want to look at you, to watch you for two hours. As much as I admire convincing performances, as much as they can touch me deep to the core, the thought of becoming an actor sounded like an idle dream in a head.
That's funny, coming from me. Writing is also a vain craft, perhaps even more so. You´re creating and selling a product from your mind. When you write, you're dependent on what you know. A story is created by your knowledge and experiences. It may differ from reality, but your world view will always color it. Not to mention the narcissism of entertaining people with your own thoughts. Who do I think I am? Why would my mind be so interesting that people would want to know what's going on inside of it?
Like an actor, I hope to entertain people. I hope to offer them a temporary escape from their own head, their own reality, the same way that writing releases me. I hope to one day write so well that it could help people. That perhaps one day, my stories could offer some wisdom and lessons that make life a little less absurd. Because nothing inspires like a good story.
That was once again proven at the film studio. The experience was anti-climatic at first. Nothing breaks the movie magic like seeing how films are made. Like knocking the brick walls of a New York appartment and feel styrofoam, or finding out that the iconic Central Perk is no bigger than your student dorm in Utrecht. Especially the display of movie costumes tend to shatter something within me. They can be handmade designer pieces, but without the charisma of a star they look like ten dollar halloween costumes.
Luckily, I appeared to be the only one experiencing heart break. I loved seeing the eyes of my fellow tourists glisten as they saw the Batmobile or the Jurassic Park set. There's something about having your favorite stories materialized. These stories are iconic and mythical. Above all, they're symbolic. We'll never meet the characters we so desperately love, nor will we ever be a part of their world. But better yet, they are a part of ours. We carry those stories with us for a lifetime and draw courage and inspiration from them. We know those characters often better than we know ourselves and in this unpredictable life, steadiness like that is a gift.
So maybe if we can find solace in those stories, the desire to make them might not be so narcissistic.
