A Patient of Patience: Reflections on 2016

It’s been a long year. Everyone knows it; we’ve resorted to personifying the abstract time period of twelve months just so we have something to blame for the difficulties both personal and public, and everything from celebrity deaths (the first of which, David Bowie, will continue to weigh on me for the rest of my life) to our verging on apocalyptic political situations. One thing remains constant, though, and it’s the unwavering fact that time takes its time.

When the clock hit midnight last year on New Year’s Eve, I was surrounded by friends with whom I had spent the previous year creating films, seeing films, and eating plenty of tacos every Tuesday. It was a different sort of New Year for me. I remember sitting on my friend’s bench in his living room (before he got an incredible new couch only a few weeks ago from when I’m writing this) and thinking to myself that the change from 2015 to 2016 felt less like the fresh start I had always associated with this “made up” holiday (yes, I know calendars are human constructs, but let us have some fun, sheesh!) and more like a rest, like sitting on a bench after a walk, recouping before continuing along the same path. It was new to me. I had written and starred in my first real short film (along with close to 100 other people, of course), recorded my first full-length electropop record in my bedroom, was in a romantic relationship where I actually felt loved instead of simply admired, was living in the same downtown apartment I had moved into the year before with the same one best friend I had been living with since I graduated college, grew closer to an ever-growing group of friends, and I felt optimistic in virtually every aspect of my life. I had it together. The world was mine for the taking as soon as my short film blew up the festival circuit and I was getting offers to write blockbuster smashes with million-dollar budgets. (Note: I never actually thought I would end up writing said movies…but you get what I was feeling, yeah? Hyperbole, yes? Okay.) And then, I heard something in myself say, “This year will be about patience. Lean not on your own understanding.” This isn’t out of the ordinary for me, and I’ve learned to listen to said voice, as it has never lead me astray, so I knew that I should probably pay attention to this. These words stayed with me, even though I had no idea what they meant at the time.

This past year has been, for all its peaks and valleys, for all its beginnings and endings, relatively static in some senses, though hissing and overwhelming in others. The short film screeched to a grinding halt when we ran out of money to finish it (though it will be finished, I assure you) and I’m reminded of this fact when the people in my life, though kind and eagerly interested, ask me, “So hey, when do I get to see Garden Party?” which is by no means an annoyance, but a reminder that the thing that had governed my entire life for months was now an afterthought, something for which I had (and still have) to wait to see completion. It’s out of my hands, really, and no one is more eager to see a final cut than me (and, you know, everyone else who worked on it). When my album came out in August of 2015, I was just excited to have finally written and recorded a full-length pop record, which was a dream of mine. I had plans to play shows, release hand-made physical copies of it, and make a music video or two, all in 2016. Well, I didn’t play any shows (though I’m planning my own mini-tour for Summer 2017), still haven’t released the physical copies (they are sitting in front of me as I type this, and they are so close to release I can almost taste it), and did in fact make a music video (yay!) which turned out wonderfully and is one of my favorite creative accomplishments of 2016, despite being filmed and edited in one afternoon with a budget of like five dollars for Post-It notes, which frankly makes it even better in my opinion. The romantic relationship I mentioned did end, which of course brings its own set of feelings that could fill another blog post entirely (but won’t because it’s not exactly something I want to discuss publicly), which is part of where that whole “lean not on your own understanding” thing came into the story, both providing solace and sting. I gained another roommate, which spawned an anxiety I hadn’t felt before (What if he grows to resent me? What if they decide they want to not live with me? What if I can’t find anywhere to live and I have to move back in with my mom, fulfilling the stereotype of “millennials can’t support themselves” because my current job can’t pay me enough to live on my own even when I work 50 hours a week? …I’m a dramatic fella sometimes), and I’m happy to say said anxiety dissipated immediately, as the addition of this new roommate has been nothing but positive, and I can’t believe I was worried for even a moment (even though human beings are naturally worried about things they have not yet experienced, but anyway) – this is one of my favorite things about 2016, truly. Speaking of a new roommate, this also brought about a new apartment! It’s huge, it’s quirky, and it’s my favorite living space I have ever had in my entire adult life. My bedroom is the stuff of dreams: I have a writing nook, a television by my bed with a Sega Genesis hooked up, and it is located in a tucked away room in the apartment so when I want to not be in the way, I’m not in the way. It’s perfect, but it took patience and leaning not on my own understanding. Apartment hunting is not fun, but the right place comes along when one is patient and perseveres (and totally gets lucky), even though the rent is higher. This year also required patience, and no small amount of faith, when one of my best friends and I needed to take time apart, to grow separately before we came back together. Without divulging too much personal detail (of which there is an abundance), I can say with certainty and relief that said friend and I are better than we ever have been, and I am utterly grateful that this friendship could be salvaged and saved. As far as my personal creative endeavors (of which, I’m learning, there are many – always), I didn’t complete any feature-length screenplays or novels this year, but I did write some new poetry for the first time in a long time, and started a multitude of new scripts, fiction, and other such things. I look forward to watching these newly planted seeds grow. And lastly, though selfishly I say “most importantly,” I learned to be patient with myself this year. I am still learning this, daily and actively. I’ve never been one to allow myself time to breathe; it’s always been out of desperation that I rest, running full-tilt until I burn myself out and am forced to recover, only to sprint again the moment I have a shred of replenished energy. This year taught me, more than any other year, that tending to one’s weariness, whether from wounds or basic exhaustion, is vital. I now have a number of ways to rest, to allow myself solace and solitude from a world that never stops moving, running, buzzing, photographing, documenting, promoting, liking, favoriting, tweeting, following, screaming, debating, laughing, singing, joking, searching, and existing at the highest possible volume and output. Instead of allowing myself to be consumed by this rapid and constant existence, I’ve learned to focus on one thing and enjoy it, not to gain any sort of social advancement or knowledge of plot before someone spoils it, not to be able to discuss it with someone when I next see them, not to prove I’m the bigger fan, not because someone said “dude, you gotta hear this record/watch this show/read this book,” but because I want to enjoy it, taste it, hear it, smell it, see it, soak myself in it, experience it, wholly and entirely. I have interests again outside the realm of self-promotion that I feel no desire to share with the social media masses, and they will stay that way – they will stay my own. I enjoy things and sometimes don’t feel the need to tweet about them (but it’s okay when I do, and knowing that is important as well). I’ve learned to be patient with myself, because the only way any of us can exist is one moment at a time. Moments can be home, so live in them. Yes, I want to move to a bigger city and take on bigger things, meet more people and see more places, drink more beer and eat more weird local cuisine – but to wish for something other than where you are, when you know you can’t or shouldn’t leave where you are, is only cheapening the life you are living. Find and create a home within yourself and live in it so every moment can be a home, or when it’s not a home, it’s an exhilarating journey into the unknown instead of just another “less-than” experience that you might document later if you can find the right filter. Find things that make you happy to take slowly and take them slowly, even if it’s the new Pokémon game or rewatching a favorite television show or film series you’ve seen countless times already, reading a book over the course of months instead of a week because every chapter should be savored, buying an album you haven’t heard and listening to it until you know it enough to decide if you like it or not (don’t skip a single song), or tasting every drop of a new beer and leaving the flavor on your tongue, or let every bite of your favorite ice cream melt in your mouth. Lick the bowl clean. Allow yourself to breathe, feel yourself grow, grant yourself grace and space to change, and enjoy the seasons when you don’t grow or change. Enjoy your own company. Take your time. Patience. Lean not on your own understanding. Patience.

This past year I’ve been playing a game for the Nintendo 3DS called The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask. It’s a game I grew up playing, and when they rereleased it for the 3DS, I knew I had to play it again. The basic premise is: you are Link, the Hero of Time, who has just saved the Kingdom of Hyrule from destruction, but afterward, your fairy companion departs and you’re left to wander in search of her. While riding through a forest, you are attacked by a mischievous creature called Skull Kid, who has two fairies - one black and one white, wearing a terrifying and powerful mask. Eventually you fall into a dark pit and wake up in Termina, a land which has three days until the Moon falls from the sky and destroys everything. You are given the task to awaken four Guardian Beings, collect many strange masks, and stop Skull Kid before the world ends. You have three days to do this. Luckily, you have an instrument, The Ocarina of Time, that can send you back to the first day (though you lose many of your insignificant items) to start the process again. There are temples to solve in order to summon the aforementioned Guardians, plenty of lands to explore, and countless people to meet who have no idea that you are going through the same three days over and over as you help them with the problems in their daily life. This game requires patience, planning, and the ability to enjoy the same events many times while also tweaking habits and patterns to trigger other events.

Even though I could write an essay about this game as an allegory for dealing with grief and depression, living the same three days over and over while everyone you meet is unaware, wearing different masks in order to make it through the day, I’ll save that for another time. The reason I bring this up (besides looking at my life as if it’s a story…because it is, and I’m a sucker for metaphor and allegory in reality) is because of something I read recently on Tumblr that put this year into perspective for me: “Those who wait upon the Lord will find new strength. – Isiah 40:31” with the caption, “Even in the fruitless seasons, God is working in you as you wait and depend on Him. Your roots are growing deeper and your branches stronger in preparation for fruit in the next season.” This year felt fruitless. I know that sounds blunt, and after writing this post, I’m realizing it was not without its beauty and progress, without its fruit, but this year felt like a fruitless season oftentimes, waiting for something that seems as though it may never come, and being told to continue waiting, fruitless or otherwise. It was a long year. It was a hard year. It was a good year.

In Majora’s Mask, it’s only after you collect all of the masks through completing tasks and quests, conquer each temple to summon each Guardian, and wait three days until the Moon gets close enough for you to climb onto it, complete a final set of challenges, and face Skull Kid and his Mask once and for all that you can break the cycle of the repetitious three days. To try to climb onto the Moon before you’re ready will only lead to the destruction of Termina and the death of everyone. It takes patience. It doesn’t make sense, but you do it anyway. And only when you’ve been patient and worked hard, and have been patient even more, can your Quest reach its climax and conclusion, and you can finally greet the Dawn of a Fourth Day, a New Day.

I don’t know what the New Day of January 1, 2017 and the many days after which will hold. I don’t know if it will bear fruit or uproot me to be planted in a new field. I don’t know if I’ll see the end of it (though I hope I do, of course), and I don’t know how I will have changed by the time of its (yes, we get it, calendars are made up and time keeps going independently of human constructs – stop ruining fun) conclusion. Perhaps it will be another year of patience and leaning not on my own understanding. Perhaps it will be a year of action. Perhaps it will be a year of change. Perhaps it will be a year of tending to that which is already planted, with a small harvest or none, and perhaps it will be the best year of my life (until the next “best year of my life” arrives) with action and change and travel and experience of which I cannot begin to predict but will burst and overflow with life. Maybe I’ll cut my hair. Maybe I won’t cut my hair. I don’t know, but not knowing isn’t a problem – lean not on your own understanding and be patient. Growth will happen where you may not realize it, and strength and experience will come through seemingly meaningless repetition. Change may happen over months or in an instant. Time will continue to take its time, and I plan to live in every single moment I am given.

And now I can finally finish playing Majora’s Mask and welcome the Dawn of a New Day.

Happy New Year. Here’s to 2017.

lovelovelove,

Adam

The Next Day: David Bowie (January 8, 1947 - January 10, 2016)

Last night, a man died.

Or rather: last night, a man was announced to be dead, which initially sparked cries of “hoax,” but was then followed by millions of sad reactions and lyric quotations and old pictures flooding the internet when we realized it was true. (It pains me so, to type these words.)

David Bowie has died.

As many of you know, and I am but one man among countless human beings who say these exact words (especially now, whether others mean them or not), David Bowie was one, is one, of my favorite artists. Fortunately for me, I have many friends who know this, and I received many messages of condolences when they heard the news, some assuming that I already knew, and others breaking the news to me gently. What a beautiful thing, receiving comfort from those close to me due to the passing of someone I’ve never met.

On January 22, 2014, I purchased The Next Day on vinyl, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars on used CD, and a used vinyl copy of Let’s Dance. I purchased these with a very good friend of mine, and I chose these particular albums due to a “beginners guide to Bowie” blog post that another one of my favorite artists compiled. The day I started my journey into the work of David Bowie is one I remember fondly, and think back on often. Since then I have acquired and heard almost every one of his 28 studio albums, whether on vinyl or CD, watched almost every one of his film roles, attended his travelling “David Bowie Is” exhibit in Chicago with someone very close to me who also adores Bowie’s art, and have otherwise become what is known to most people as a “superfan.” I’ve had people send me links to articles about his work, give me old magazines containing interviews with him, and make me hand-drawn Christmas cards displaying his likeness. My mother shares the same birthday as David Bowie. My best friend and roommate called a record store and claimed a rare copy of his album Low to give me on my 25^th birthday, which was the very copy I had been eyeing for months and was unable to purchase myself. I went to Los Angeles with the same friend who was with me when I bought those aforementioned first three albums, and he took pictures of me by Bowie’s star on the sidewalk, and went with me to record stores where I found the latter two installments in the Berlin Trilogy. I received a special edition copy of Labyrinth from the same person who went with me to Chicago. And just three days ago, my girlfriend took me to as many record stores as needed, in a city neither of us knew well, in order to buy David Bowie’s now-final album, Blackstar on vinyl, because CD just wouldn’t cut it quite yet. All of this is to say that my love for David Bowie’s work is known and celebrated with many people in my life who love me, and that beautiful message isn’t even why I sat down to write all this.

But it is now.

Originally, I was going to write a long piece about legacy, and how the man has died but the art will live on, and the Bowie we all know cannot die because his music and movies and books and whatnot shall always exist as long as humanity exists. I was going to write about how he has “earned” a peaceful death because his life was so full, and his life was full. It was full of writing songs, singing lyrics, dancing and performing for others, but it was full of experiences and mistakes as well. And it was full of love, from strangers to family; this man was loved, and inspired love. His music entered my life at a time when I needed to lose myself in a new exploration, to be inspired by an artistic innovator, and to feel like someone else “got” it, but what I didn’t know is just how much his music and art would inspire new friendships, inspire my own music and art, or most importantly, bring me closer to the people already in my life. And isn’t that the point? David Bowie sang countless songs about loneliness, confusion, pain, redemption, hope, and love. He brought people together. It’s not David Bowie we love, but rather the way he brought us all closer together under the blanket of being human, and inspired one more day, one more step, one more try.

Thank you, David Bowie. My life is better with your words and music and image in it. And that’s all I, or any artist, should really want from a legacy: to inspire hope and love in someone else.

Just for one day.

lovelovelove,

Adam

A Fresh Coat of Paint

I haven't written anything for this blog in over a year.

Needless to say, plenty has happened in that time. Speaking solely in relation to this blog: I changed its name, and removed irrelevant posts (things that weren't even fun to read for nostalgia's sake), but decided to keep it anyway, moving forward with a less uptight attitude concerning its content instead of creating an entirely new blog. For instance, I used to write these entries during landmarks in my life - birthdays, and the like. I also used to only title the entries with song lyrics (save for the Prague-related posts), which I may still do sometimes, but I'm not binding myself by it any longer. I suppose you could say July 31 is a landmark, considering it's a new month tomorrow and all, but I actually just had a thought the other day -- it's not about months. It's about getting water and sunshine today, so we can grow into tomorrow. Months are a human construct, and although it can be positive to have a mental fresh start at the beginning of a new month, I've learned that such a mindset can also prove dangerous if you let it determine your actions. We each have more control over our lives than we allow ourselves (though some people allow themselves too much control, which can result in selfishness and, in my experience, an utter trainwreck of human relationships), which means we don't have to write an entire month off as tainted or impure because of a negative experience in the middle of it.

So why do the minor changes I mentioned matter? I mean, this is just a casual internet blog, used for my own decompression and not for anything particularly profound. In fact, this entry is going to be a meandering spill of words from a water glass in my head. It may seem disjointed and all over the place, but it's all coming from the same source, so I guess that counts as a connection. The point is: it matters because it's still change and growth, no matter how small.

As I type this, I almost want to change the title to "A Glass Can Only Spill What It Contains," which would continue the contradiction already begun by the fact that I'm posting this right before the first of a new month, because those would be song lyrics, and song lyrics and landmarks are two things I'm claiming no longer have constricting influence over what I decide to post in this blog. I'm overthinking it.

Beyond the changes to this blog, there have been quite a few personal changes in the past year and a half. Bullet-point time!

- I'm still living in Grand Rapids, but it's an indefinite thing now. Adam from 2013 would be upset with present Adam for that, and if that's not a sign of growth, I don't know what is. I just know that LA was not the place I should set my sights on for the next move. I'm letting life unfold here, and boy is it ever.
- I got a new tattoo this past June. It's on my chest, and I love it. That ink circle holds so much meaning to me. Let's get coffee and talk about it.
- A script I wrote was filmed last April. It's short, but everyone involved was amazing and talented, and I can't wait to see the final product. This project also prepared us (a little bit) for this next bullet point.
- If you've been on my Facebook at all, you've seen a slew of promotion for a short film I wrote called Garden Party. We're shooting it in a couple weeks, but for the past two months, it's been a beast all its own. We have a website (gardenpartyinvite.com), an Instagram and Twitter, a Facebook, and a mini-series based on the character I'm playing (go to YouTube and search "Just A Sip With Stan." Trust me.), which is surreal in itself since I created this character and now he has his own mini-series. This whole project has been one of the best things to ever happen to me, and I cannot wait to film it.
- Last year on my birthday, I released 25, which is an EP by my lo-fi music project called Up n Adam. It's just me playing all of the instruments and mixing it and doing everything myself (except the album cover, which was shot by my friend Chloë, and the mastering, which was done by my brother Nick), and I'm still proud of it. But it's nothing compared to this next bullet point.
- Tomorrow, I'm going to announce the title and release date for the debut album from Up n Adam. It's going to be 12 songs of pure Summer and sugar, falling under the only genre that properly describes my music: ukulelectropop. I just listened to the final master mix of the album, and I can say without any doubt that this is how I've been trying to make Up n Adam sound since its creation. I'm so proud of this album. I can't wait for you to hear it. This album will also have original artwork by Chloë Malmquist (chloemalmquist.tumblr.com) that looks exactly how the album sounds: warm, fun, and sweet. Listen on bandcamp (upnadam.bandcamp.com) or follow me on Twitter (@upnadammusic). And thus completes the shameless plug for my music.
- As far as current in-progress work goes, I'm working on like four short scripts for comedy sketches and mini-series, a new feature-length screenplay, a few new songs in the works already, and those usual novels, novellas, etc. I always have something I'm working on, and I'm very much alright with that. Life is good.

--

From here on out, my plan for this blog is to...well...write in it. I was asked to do a track-by-track explanation for my album, so that will be coming soon, and I'll probably post some music reviews, book reviews, life updates, and other such readables. But as for now, this reintroduction comes to a close.

Be kind. Hug people.

lovelovelove,

Adam

24

Hello, everyone!

I know, I know...two posts in one day? This new year has brought about a new Adam!

Just kidding. That last one was an album review. This one is a life update.

I said yesterday on my Tumblr blog that I had big news on all fronts, and that I would reveal it all today. Well, here it is.

Firstly, and obviously, I am twenty-four years old today.
Yesterday was a perfect ending to a rough year of being 23. I don't know what it was, but there was something about 23 that just felt uncomfortable to me, and I must say that barely a day into 24 feels like a much better fit. I'm loving celebrating in a new city, despite not having done anything particularly exclusive to Grand Rapids (except sitting in this coffee shop). The point of this paragraph is: life is good, and life as 24 is great.
(I'm kind of tired of writing about fresh starts all the time. I think I need to make some messes.)

Secondly, and slightly related to firstly, I got my own ukulele for my birthday! Which means I can write new music whenever I want and maybe even do some shows if people need opening slots filled where you don't have to pay the performer! Woo! In that musical vein, I have some Christmas tunes in the works for an EP of holiday ditties, as well as a renewed desire to work on this full-length I've been talking about so much. It's going to happen, dang it.
Plus, Brittany and I have talked about starting a music project together, and Riley half-mentioned it last time I was in Kalamazoo, so who knows? My life could be getting pretty dang musical in the near future.

Thirdly, and most excitingly, I met with Matthew Miller (director of that short film I was in) to discuss future projects with him. We have two in the works. One of them is based on a short story I wrote (that pacifist parable I mentioned before) which might film in November. The other is quite possibly the funniest, smartest, and all-around best script idea I will have had the pleasure of working on to date. If we really go for it, which we are, it will be a big endeavor that will probably film in the Spring. I just need to write the script. My excitement is sky-high.

A few other things to mention:

I had an incredible weekend in Kalamazoo this past Friday/Saturday. I attempted an epic bar crawl with Riley, went to a pumpkin patch with a bunch of swell folks, and then watched my incredibly talented and heartbreakingly brilliant friend Lizzy play Fantine in Les Miserables at the Civic. She floored me with that performance. Seriously, go see it if you can. It's worth the ticket price and crippling depression (from the story), I promise.

Sunday night, I got pizza with my mom and brother and roommate at Brickroad Pizza here in Grand Rapids. It was delicious. And pizza.

Yesterday was great as well. I wrote a bit, walked a bit, and enjoyed life a lot. Then I went to work, which was painfully slow, but ended on a high note. Then I walked outside to see my driver's side rearview mirror hanging by its cords. I was angry at first, until I realized I could see this as a metaphor for not letting the past slow me down. It's also a metaphor for how I need glue, and then after I fix it, it can be a metaphor for using the past to not crash you in the present. Yay car metaphors!

And now I'm wearing a new shirt, having a spontaneous birthday, and loving every single person I come across today. All of these birthday wishes have me feeling so very loved, and I can't thank any and all of you enough.

Well, I think that's all I have today. It's nice not having every single post result in a really heavy, really long collection of really heavy, really long thoughts. May your Autumn's be blessed, full of love, and probably pumpkin-spiced.

Here's to 24. May it be the best year of my life so far, but only until 25 and beyond.

lovelovelove,
Adam

First Reaction Album Review: Bradley Hathaway - How Long

I don't usually write album reviews, but that might need to change, and this is a good place to start. Here is my review for Bradley Hathaway's new album How Long, which will be released on November 5th.

You can pre-order the album (and hear a great song from it!) here: http://bradleyhathaway.bandcamp.com/

Since Bradley is an unsigned, independent artist, any and all support will mean the world to him, I'm sure. This is one of the most genuine and loving human souls I've ever met, and if you enjoy his music, please support his means to continue making it.

Okay, here's my review!

lovelovelove

Adam

-

Bradley Hathaway – How Long

Yesterday was the last day of my life as a twenty-three year-old, and it was also the day I received an email from one of my favorite musical artists, Bradley Hathaway. You see, I backed a project of his on Kickstarter a couple of years ago, and the album has still yet to be released, officially. This email was an apology for the wait, but also a link to download a digital version of the album before the release date (as well as a few more apologies, because he’s such a sweet man). The album is titled How Long, and yes, the joke has been made countless times since he revealed the title about “how long” it took him to put out the album. It still makes me smile.

I’ve been a huge fan of Bradley’s work for many years. I learned about his output between the release of his first album of spoken-word poetry (All The Hits So Far) and his first album of music (The Thing That Poets Write About, The Thing That Singers Sing About). I saw an incredible live performance at Cornerstone Festival 2008 in Illinois, where he played his new record, A Mouth Full of Dust, in its entirety. It was then that I was branded by and fell in love specifically with the song “Look Up,” and shared it with many of my friends. I own every release he has ever put out, and I am looking forward to owning any and all new efforts. I still cry when I hear “The Hug Poem” and I still consider The Thing That Poets Write About, The Thing That Singers Sing About to be not only a staple in my favorite albums of all time, but one of the most beautiful, humble, and heartfelt explorations of love I have ever heard. A Mouth Full of Dust, and A Thousand Angry Panthers (the EP that followed Mouth Full), break my heart more and more with each listen, in the best way. I love Bradley’s music, period.

Needless to say, this email brightened my entire day, and I quickly downloaded How Long. But something told me I should wait until today, my twenty-fourth birthday, to listen to it. I am so glad I did.

In the email, Bradley said to express the feelings each song brought, so I’m going to review the album by describing what I was doing, track by track, in the most poetic way possible, since this first listen was a spiritual experience in itself. Bradley’s music, for me, has been best experienced surrounded by nature and the outdoors. I’ve had countless moments of closeness and clarity with God while walking or driving with Bradley’s voice in my ears, so it only seemed appropriate to go for a walk while listening to the new album. This morning, I put on my headphones, stepped out of my door into an overcast Autumn, and walked with no predetermined destination. I pressed play and took the first step.

(All of these street names, people, animals, and events actually exist and happened to me during this walk. There is something greater in this world, my friends. If you slow down, you can see it clear as day.)

How Long 

I first heard “Daddy’s Name” while walking over crisp leaves to the sidewalk. There was a dog pawing at a window from inside a house across the road. I smiled, and turned onto Page Street.

I first heard “How Long” on Spring Street. When he sang the line about the breeze, wind brushed my cheek; when he sang the line about the leaves, one fell in front of me, and I felt God everywhere.

I first heard “Courthouse” while sitting on the front steps of a church.

I first heard “Georgia” while waiting for a light to change, so I could safely cross the street.

I first heard “He Drives” and felt my heart breaking, yet held together with loving hands. A smile on my face and tears in my eyes, I felt like Bradley wrote this song about and for me. As it ended, I saw a man hammering a nail on his front porch.

I first heard “If I Should Die” and thought I’d never smiled so much during a song about death, and wondered if that was the point.

I first heard “Been So Long” on Sweet Street, missing a girl I have always been in love with and never known and may never know, but I love her still. A man was painting a white window frame as I passed.

I first heard “Beer Can” standing in front of a locked gate, closed off from a beautiful yard. When I turned around, the street curved in a way I didn’t like, so I returned to the gate, which was still locked. I thought I once held the key, but then I knew I never had and never will.

I first heard “So Far” when I felt sad. I walked home and knew I’d find Jesus at my door.

I first heard “You Look So Pretty” when I saw the place by my apartment where a pretty girl smiled back at me one time. A leaf fell when I least expected it. As the album closed, I opened my front door once again.

Overall, How Long is musically Bradley Hathaway’s best album, hands down. His sound has evolved from a humble simplicity to an abrasive disparity to now: a warm Southern nostalgia, slow-dripping with memory, love, pain, grace, heartbreak, and hope. His voice has never sounded better, and his instruments have taken a fuller feel. Lyrically, (I’ll need to get to know the album better before I can comment properly, but) his words are more mature and the stories more complex than his previous work. I look forward to learning the words so I may sing them along with Bradley if I get the chance to see him on this tour.

How Long is an album that will carry me through this Autumn season with song hugs and memories of loves past, with hopes for the future. Thank you, Bradley. The new record was worth the wait, no matter How Long it took to be released.

The Sound of Settling: An Autumn Update 2013

Hi, everyone! So, before I post this post, I want to give a little disclaimer. As I say in the post, I wrote this at 1am two nights ago while wired out of my mind on caffeine. I still mean every word I wrote, but boy do I sound loopy. And it gets pretty heavy at one point…so yeah, just a heads up. Okay. Here’s a post.

(I'll probably write on this blog more frequently now. I always say that though.)

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To be honest, I wasn’t planning on writing this tonight.

It is now October, the first, and I am wide awake.

Brittany and I found a coffee shop close to our new apartment in Grand Rapids. There, we have wifi and can watch How I Met Your Mother in shifts, as there is only one pair of headphones in our possession at the moment. It was probably a mistake to drink coffee at such a late hour, but I was too excited about returning to the characters I hold so dear, as well as finding a new coffee-supplying location to frequent, so here we are: wide awake at 1am on the first of October, 2013.

When I said I wasn’t planning on writing this tonight, I don’t mean I wasn’t planning on writing it at all. Then again, when else would I write it but tonight?

I’ve been meaning to write another post giving some sort of “life update” in detail for a while now, but the timing has been off. For instance, the past month of my life has involved an immeasurable amount of endings, goodbyes, loose ends being tied, metaphorical deaths, as well as beginnings, hellos, new ends being loosened, and metaphorical births. I simply have not had the time to sit and get my thoughts in order. Until tonight, that is, with coffee pumping through the streams in my body and forcing my eyelids open.

Before I really begin, I want to clarify something that doesn’t really need clarification: I don’t write these posts, however sparse they may be, because I feel my life is important enough that the public needs to be updated on my every change. I write these posts because I need to feel in control of the organization of the events in my “lives” (creative, personal, etc.) despite not having any real control at all. I have some, sure, such as what paths to continue upon or progress or abandon, but when it comes down to it, much of my life is controlled by the lives of others. We all work together in an odd sort of collaboration to further our search for love (and I don’t mean romantic love, obviously), peace, and life in general. I digress. The point is: I’m not writing this because I feel I am special enough to warrant your attention, but rather to keep myself from becoming overwhelmed by myself.

I suppose I’ll begin with the obvious: as of the fourteenth of September, I have been living in a new city. That city is Grand Rapids, Michigan. I was nervous about the move, as is true with most people who move for the first time for a reason other than school or family, and I would be lying if I said the nervousness has dissipated. I feel more at ease after two weeks, yes, but I do not feel comfortable.  And that is a good thing. I have yet to connect with more than one or two “potential friends” and I still get turned around very easily when it comes to directions. However, this is exactly what I needed.

My farewell to Kalamazoo was excessive, to say the least. There were three going-away parties, visits to every major location that meant something to me for one final goodbye, coffee or beer and/or hugs with every single friend (well, okay, not every friend) that I would not be seeing for an extended period. A lot (but not all) of this had to do not with my college life, but with my work life. My coworkers at Celebration! Cinema Crossroads were, are, and always will be like family to me, and have seen me through a great deal of highs and lows. They gave me a sendoff(s) I will never forget, and helped me release my grip on my “college life.” You know, that mess from ages 18-22 that brought about heartbreak, anxiety, vices, and all kinds of things that I’ll need to get over for the rest of my life. It wasn’t all bad, though, as that time period also brought about an expanded sense of adventure, new confidences, new or strengthened friendships, honed skills, broadened tastes in music, film, and art, and more positives than negatives, ultimately. But with these goodbyes, I let go of that time in my life and stepped foot on the path I’ve been looking forward to my entire life. And that path is, well, my entire life.

Now that I have moved to a new city, with no other purpose than the one I feel I was born to do, I can finally begin living the life I feel called to live: the life of someone who creates stories and art that will make the world a brighter place and change hearts for the better, spread love to everyone, and bring even just a shred of glory to the One who created me. That’s really all I want to do, and now that I read those again, I realize that’s all I’ve been striving to do my whole life, and I’ve actually been doing it this whole time. But it’s different now.

This year in Grand Rapids actually feels similar to my past year in Kalamazoo in the sense that I’m still “preparing” for my shot at “success” as a writer. My plan as of now (which could change for all I know, but probably won’t) is to move to California after my year here to actually attempt a break-in of the film industry. (Riley, if you’re reading this right now, stop freaking out about the parentheses in that last sentence. Seriously. And also I miss you a ton.)

I want to lose the first word in my “aspiring screenwriter” status. I want to help create films. I want films I have written to be created. I want to see my name on a movie poster and in the credits on screens across the country, or even the world. I want my ideas to be the subject of “after-movies” discussion, where two people get to know each other better because they spent anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours talking about the ideas or perspectives I’ve helped present in a two-hour visual medium. I want to be ripped apart by pretentious critics. I want a small-town cinephile that wants to also help create films to see something I’ve had a hand in, and write a review of it for his film blog he started with one of his best friends. It may be short-lived, as are most careers in such a decaying industry, but I know that. I am going to pursue the chance to make even the smallest spark.

I know this all sounds crazy. Believe me. You can tell me how unlikely it is, or how my dreams are too big, or how I have no idea what I’m talking about, or whatever. I know all of that. But I also know that I’m only young once. I won’t be 23 again. Or 24. Or 25. Or 26. I have my entire life to settle down, get a “real job,” and start a family (because I really do want to start a family someday). But I don’t want to succumb to the horrifying 21^st century “American dream” of being closer to debt-free with each paycheck from a lukewarm job, a messy family life, and being consumed by regret that I didn’t pursue the insane desires of my youth. I’m going to go for this, and I’m going to learn a whole hell of a lot. I’m going to see just how much of the worst isn’t over and how many best days of my life I have yet to experience. I’ve seen a lot of people my age (and even younger) already curl up and forget the wild desires and lunatic dreams they had when “grown-ups” would ask them what they wanted to be when they too grew up. So many people barely a quarter of the way through their lives assume the worst is behind them, assume that’s a good thing, and create a bland self-fulfilling prophecy of the “okay” and the “fine” being how they spend the rest of their existence in this beautiful and terrifying life. I know I won’t “make a lot of money,” but even if I do, what does it matter? I will see things that not many people see and do things that, though silly or odd or whatever, not many people do. I want to suck every drop of something out of the time I’m alive and explode in some sort of flash or flood or fire that shines life and love onto everyone I come into contact with while I’m breathing.

So get ready, because the prologues and expositions are ending and I see chapter one speeding at me. And I’m standing in the middle of the street with no intention of moving out of the way.

Wow, sorry, that got really, really heavy. Ahem.

My plans for the year are kind of the “usual” for me in the sense that I’ll be continuing all of the creative pursuits I have been. I’ll be writing screenplays, both short and long. I’ll be continuing the film blog with Riley. I’ll be writing poetry when the mood hits me. I’ll be writing short stories, and perhaps working on my novel that I’ve had in the works for a few years. I’ll be writing, recording, and playing music (that I know is bad, okay? I’ve heard myself sing. Gosh. I do it because I like it), and hopefully playing a few live shows, if I can. And obviously I’ll be watching a ton of movies.

Some new things, however, are actual creation of some of these short films with a few different people, and a continued collaboration with my very good friend and spectacularly talented filmmaker Matthew Miller and his production company. There also may be a musical collaboration between my roommate and I, where we really divulge into our twee hipster existence and pull some songs out of them. I also really want to try my hand at painting. I don’t know why. It just sounds fun.

…and wow, I’m really crashing from that caffeine high I was on this whole time.

Let’s do some bullet points! Obviously most of this post has to do with my creative life, both short- and long-term. Here are a few goals in bullet form:

-       write another full-length screenplay

-       write a bunch of short screenplays

-       record and release the Up n Adam full-length

-       record and release a split with my brother Nick, and maybe another Christmas EP

-       write more for the film blog

-       write short stories, poetry, longer work, etc.

-       paint a bit, perhaps.

And here are some bullet points about my personal life, which I really haven’t discussed a whole lot in this post:

-       I’m working on making new friends.

-       I miss my friends that are already friends so much. Seriously. So much. It kills me to see pictures of you all hanging out without me. But keep having fun. Just know that I miss you and I wish I were there.

-       My new job at Celebration! Woodland is fantastic. Really. I love it there. More than I expected, honestly.

-       I’m still single, and although I’d worried about that for the past couple months, I’m actually starting to think I’m going to stay this way for quite a while. But hey, who knows. How I Met Your Mother started back up and I’ve been all kinds of swoon-y lately, between that and The OC. Even though Finn and Fire Princess broke up in Adventure Time. Poor guy. It’s for the best, though.

I am out of things to cover…but this post is already long enough. And it was totally not what I thought I wanted to write about, but hey, I feel better now that all of that came out, so it can’t be all bad. Or any bad. No bad. Breaking bad (oh crap, now this post is like everything else on the internet lately. I’ve still never watched that show…oops).

Okay, I should probably go to bed now.

I love you all. Sorry for the length of this post. You didn’t have to read it, but if you did, let me know and I’ll give you a huge hug next time I see you.

lovelovelove,

Adam

The Script, It Called For Rain, But It Was Clear That Day...So We Faked It

Hello, everyone! It’s been almost three months since my last post on this blog, which makes me sigh at first, until I realize that the reason I haven’t posted anything is because of how busy I have been these past few months. I’ve been writing and working and watching movies and traveling and meeting people, but most importantly, I’ve been making movies.

Okay, “making movies” sounds like I’ve been pumping out feature-length films these past three months, but in actuality, I’ve been involved with the creation of two short films. The first one, Break-Up Practice, was written by yours truly and directed by my good friend James Swarts-Kinsey. We’re working on the final edit right now and should have it finished and uploaded by mid-April. I’m really really excited about it.

The second one is why I’m writing this blog post. My good friend Matthew Miller, the mind behind the Shadow|Shine production company, called me one day and told me he was going to direct a short film, and that he thought I would be a solid choice to play the lead role. Having worked with him before (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JH7aeMdEKwc), I eagerly scheduled a Skype audition and eventually was given the part. What I thought would be a fun way to work with a good friend on a little project again ended up being a reawakening of my passion for acting, a life-changing experience, and a far larger undertaking than I expected.

It turned out this “little project” was actually the final senior project of Cornerstone University’s film students. The cast varied in age and experience, and the crew reached numbers of over 30 people. Everyone had a specific job, and mine was to be the lead role, acting seriously for the first time in four years (two if you count that music video), and I was terrified. Matt was the only person I knew, and if I messed up, 30 people I did not know would see said mess up. But, as things do, everything worked out far better than I could have ever expected. I learned so much about filmmaking over those six days of shooting, and made some great new friends in the process. I’m going to recap those days below and give not only some behind-the-scenes from my own experiences, but explore just how this experience changed and influenced me as a person. (I’m not going to include much of the plot or description of the set as to not give anything away before it’s finished. Besides, it’s long enough as it is.)

Day 0 – Rehearsal: The cast met at Rosie’s Diner, a cute but condemned building just north of Grand Rapids. There was no heat, electricity, or plumbing, and since the building was entirely made of metal, it was essentially an icebox. Matt assured us that it would be heated for the shoot (if you were there, you’re probably laughing at that), and I met the other actors. They are all such sweet people, each having different experiences with acting in the past, and we clicked as well as any cast meeting for the first time. I had no idea just how much I would grow to love these people in such a short time.

Day 1 – Rosie’s Diner: I woke up before the sun, ate a small breakfast, and drove to set with Matt, Michael (Matt’s brother and an amazing 2^nd AD), and Nate (director of photography and all-around brilliant fellow). I remember Matt saying, “Put on something upbeat,” and Michael turned on the song “Sunday, Bloody Sunday.” For some reason, that was hilarious to me. Anyway, this was my first time meeting the crew, another group of people I would grow to love very much. I was so nervous. And if you know me, you know that I get very quiet when I’m nervous. And then my nervousness got more intense when I realized that by not talking, I was probably coming off as some high-on-himself actor who felt he was above the peasant crew, which was not the case. Watching them unload everything and set it up was fascinating to me. I had never seen most of this technology before, so I stood off to the side and observed (not that I could have done anything, as they were working for a grade and I didn’t know what half the stuff was). The thing that caught me off guard the most, however, was being referred to as “The Talent.” All of the actors were called The Talent on set, which made me kind of uncomfortable at first. I was being continually checked up on (“Are you warm enough? Would you like water?” etc.). I was treated as this commodity that needed close maintenance, when in reality all I wanted to do was help contribute to making a great short film. Eventually I got comfortable enough to joke around about being called The Talent, but not for the first couple days. Here were all these people making sure I was comfortable while they were working hard in the freezing cold, and all I had to do was wait for shooting to begin. It seemed off to me, and it resulted in my losing respect for actors who complain about petty things like coffee flavor or room temperature. The crew works much harder than actors do (the majority of the time), and to complain about red M&M’s in your bowl when people are lifting heavy lights to try to make you look half decent is just childish.

Wow, these descriptions are long. I’ll try to hit some of the big details, but I’m omitting a large portion of the experience. If you want to hear more, I’m more than willing to talk about it in person.

Anyway, Day 1 was cold. So, so cold. It never got above 28 degrees in that little diner, and we had to work hard so our breath wouldn’t show up on camera. But despite the freezing temperatures, I was feeling a warmth and passion I hadn’t felt in a long time: acting.

Day 2 – Rosie’s Diner (again): This was the day I really got into my character. The cast and crew came back to the diner, ready to face the brutal chill (we even sent people over early to get the generators going and set up space heaters to make it a little more bearable when everyone else arrived), and it was my “big day.” This was the day that the majority of the focus was on my character and therefore on me. I had a lengthy shot that was around a minute of only me talking, arguing with the narrator (who will eventually be added in as a voiceover). That was one of the things I was most proud of, personally, because it was the first time I really felt in tune with the character I was playing, and the first time I got a big chunk of solo spotlight. After the second 12-hour day in a row, I still wanted to keep shooting. Everything was turning on for me: the acting, the energy, and I was even getting to know the cast and crew better. I couldn’t wait until the next day.

Day 3 – The Warehouse: Thank God for heat. Also, I got to wear a leather jacket and carry a (fake) gun. Getting to play a revenge-thirsty Chicago cop was one of the manliest things I think I have ever done, and it felt good. Granted, the short film is a comedy and seeing me try to act tough is, well, comedic. Having a “love your neighbor,” “turn the other cheek,” anarcho-pacifist play a city cop bent on murderous revenge could not have been a stranger match, but I guess that’s why they call it acting. And once I found that character (and could put my personal beliefs aside to play said character), I had such an amazing time. Not to mention, I like to think I pulled off “rugged revenge cop” rather well.

This was also the day I got much closer to the cast and crew. We all sat around (comfortably…again, thank God for heat) and talked about life and movies and music and Tolkien. I really bonded with quite a few people. It was amazing. This marked the halfway point in the shoot and I was already sad that it would end. I wanted to eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and discuss The Hobbit and debate film and make jokes every day for the rest of my life.

Day 4 – The Office Building: More heat! Huzzah! This day was more of doing what I love with people I was growing to love more and more. I could gush for hours, but I’ll save you the saccharine. The biggest personal realization that came from this day happened when I was alone in the office room, looking out the window over the city of Grand Rapids. It was quiet, I wasn’t yet in costume, and the city was sprawled in front of me. It was in this moment that I felt very much at peace, and a strange sort of fiery, bass-y “voice” echoed in my gut/chest/head that said something I’d been longing to hear for a while: this is the next step. You see, I’ve been kind of quiet about it, but the prospect of where I would be when my lease is up has been weighing on my mind. I knew I didn’t want to stay in Kalamazoo, there was a possibility of moving to California with Jamey, but overall I had no real lead on what to do. Then, when this moment happened, I realized that I would be living in Grand Rapids next year. It’s a bigger city, full of fresh faces and new experiences, an untapped treasure chest of learning. It’s close enough to home that a Christmas visit wouldn’t drain my bank account, but far enough away to really start (or rather, continue) my post-college life. I would speculate as to whether or not I would come to this realization had I not done this short film, but this post is already long enough as it is. Let’s continue.

Day 5 – Funeral Scene: The title of this post is a lyric from the song “Clark Gable” by The Postal Service, but it is also a reference to this day. We made it rain. Okay, I just really wanted to say that, but we did use a hose to simulate rain and it was sososososo cold. I mean, not Rosie’s Diner cold, but still hand-numbing. Again, despite the cold, it was still a great time. The spaghetti was delicious.

Day 6 – Car Stuff: This was probably the most stressful day since it was a lot of little shots taking place in three different locations. (Cam’s famous homemade pizza eased the stress so very much. Yum and a half.) But by the end of the day, I was just crushed that the principal photography had wrapped. Sure, I’m glad we got it all done on time, but I wanted to keep everything going for weeks and weeks. Like the cliché goes, though, everything comes to an end.

Day 7 – Pick-Up Day: This day was unexpected. We had to reshoot some stuff in the studio, and it was just Matt, Nate, Crystal, and myself. The four of us were tired, and kinda loopy, but we got everything finished. All that’s left is some voiceover recording that I will be doing this week, hopefully.

Gosh, it sucks to re-read that and realize that I barely dented the surface of all of the amazing things that happened over the past two weeks. If you were involved in the production, you probably feel like I left out a lot (which I did), but don’t think that because I omitted so much, I don’t remember everything. This has been such a life-changing experience for me. Thank you so much to everyone who was a part of it; thank you to Matt, Nate, and Cam for letting me live with you for a few days; and thank you to the One who gave me the passions and talents of writing and acting when I was being made. I can’t wait to see how this short film turns out.

Here’s to storytelling, cinema, and a community of creative and wonderful artists (I love you all)!

lovelovelove,

Adam