In the last weeks of my lease, trying to figure out for myself if the next phases of my life will be better or worse; I'm trying to convince myself that the answer is better (because I have no proof that it won’t be).
My current apartment seems messier in a way that it wasn't before; it's like watching your own body slowly die off (removing—moving out—the pieces that connected you to your own living space). It's clearly symbolic for me, not real suffering or anything (I should be clear about this)—the shedding of skins.
I guess I feel a certain amount of apprehension about the future, but that's normal. I go through periods where I’m made insensate by a sense of apprehension. And, admittedly, this has justified my own seeking of safety and consistency; I rarely seek much change or turnover. My tendency is to keep all possibilities alive at once, to keep a portfolio of possibilities, which is cowardly.
Life is a matter of choosing. Life is shaped by choosing. If you aren't doing the choosing, you're chosen. You're letting events decide for you. You're riding shotgun in the vehicle of existence. So, that's a general tendency in myself I regard with dismay.
I think that's why I like directing, because, as a director you can make very concrete choices; you can shape things without fear of unforeseen possibilities, too many unforeseen possibilities. I'm a good director because I'm a flawed and indecisive person, in other words. Andre Gregory says something like this in My Dinner with Andre. Theater tends to become a substitute for your own life, and throws the poverty of your own life into stronger relief.
Then, something is needed—unexpressed,
Obscure, and without substance. Such is the adoration and the
Self-revelation of pain. It endures, divides, spreads
Across the ocean of the earth. It would not be so disengaged
As it was when we were truly bewildered, when antiphonal
Infinites sprouted in the rain.