A Warning Before Following Your DREAMS!
Just don't acknowledge them and then you never have to follow them!
Quick Pre Essay Announcement: My beloved Substackers I will be performing my new stand up storytelling show FOOL PROOF in NYC at the Soho Playhouse off broadway on May 17-20th. I want to give you this gift, a $10 off code ‘FOOLISH’ just for you. Get tickets OR if you don’t live in NYC tell your friends that do! TICKETS
What’s it about? Can’t tell you! You’ll have to come see it to find out!
I was sitting here at my desk, hard at work writing and tweaking and gathering material for Fool Proof which is my 4th solo show. That will be 4 different solo shows in the past 6 years. Each of my shows consist of a blend of storytelling and more traditional stand up comedy. I like to weave the jokes and stories together on stage into a cohesive beginning, middle and end. And in a perfect world, you laugh a lot and are surprised a little bit and maybe, if I do it just right, at some point you will shed one tiny single tear. Then go back to laughing. 6 years ago it was literally my dream to do that. Perform a solo show one single time where people laugh and also feel something.
What a humiliating thing to admit you have a dream. It’s not humiliating to know other peoples dreams, it’s easy to encourage those. To admit to yourself that YOU have a dream, it almost feels shameful. We are always rooting for the character in the movie who loves baking and her husband says, ‘Just quit your job, we will tough it out, I believe in you…your cookies are special.’ Then it turns out THAT woman was the first person who thought to put sea salt on a chocolate chip cookie. Thank God for that supportive husband who encouraged Darlene’s baking dreams. I just made that story up on the spot and already figured out act 1 and 2. I just need a few obstacles before Darlene's Sea Salt Cookie business takes off and the credits roll and we’ve got a movie on our hands! Maybe her bakery catches on fire or her baking nemesis Judy exchange's the baking soda for cocaine at the bake off and sabotages her. I’ll iron out act 2 but this script is nearly done and I started it 2 minutes ago.
The point is that Darlene is going to be the one who keeps on telling herself how ‘it’s only a cookie’. Her husband, friends, kids and co-workers are the ones that will be screaming the whole time…‘It’s not just a cookie! This cookie is something special’ Now, Darlene knows it’s a special cookie, at least she did…but now anytime she remembers that moment she first thought to sprinkle that little bit of sea salt on that cookie right as it came out of the oven, that magic she felt, that chance she took mixing savoury and sweet, wondering if it would work. Then she took a bite and it was better than she’d ever imagined. She gave her husband a bite and he fell deeper in love with her just like he had each day since they met at that state county fair 14 years ago. Since then everyone else in her life is cheering her on but that moment of inspiration when she dropped that bit of salt onto that pastry, well that is so far behind her now. She is plagued with the constant overture of ‘It’s just another cookie’ in her head over and over again and now her fucking BAKERY BURNT DOWN! Darlene might have to pack it all up and keep her corporate office job that makes money by raising rent on small businesses like restaurants and BAKERIES. Damn, honestly, that is just another layer and this script is getting very good.
There is a book by a writer and filmmaker named Julia Cameron called The Artists Way and it’s a workbook for stuck artists to get unstuck and open up their creativity. I did it a few years ago with my friend Cory, 6 years ago to be exact. She makes you journal and take yourself on dates and go on walks and pick a leaves off trees and save them in a notebook. Now I am in touch with my emotional side more than most straight American men but it is still pretty damn hard to go pick a leaf off a tree while telling yourself you want to get in touch with your ‘inner artists child’ and not think, ‘Wow Kevin…you are a fucking looooooser.’
That is what friends are for, I would text Cory to warn him…'Dude. Get ready for Chapter 6. She makes. you say I am strong, I am creative, I am an artist. OUT LOUD.’
We had both agreed we would finish the entire book and do everything Julia asked of us, even the exercises that made us feel lame…which was 94% of the exercises. The exercises are hard because they force you to admit that you do care. I mean, it wouldn’t be embarrassing to say those sentences above out loud unless somewhere within you, you meant them. Or wanted to mean them. That is why I was thankful to have a friend like Cory to let the steam off of feeling ridiculous after I had just said ‘I am strong. I am an artist.’ out loud and then actually talk about how the exercise went, what it brought up within us.
For Darlene when she did the exercise I bet she started to hear the faintest whisper of a voice deep down that said ‘It’s not just any other cookie. It’s a great cookie. A special cookie.' Something her husband doesn’t need reminding of, he has never doubted her baking skills and this cookie is the pinnacle of her work!
There is a passage in the Artists Way towards the end where Julia writes ‘You may find yourself beginning to change, doing things you never thought you would do. You’ll look over and see the flowers on your kitchen table and say to yourself, ‘who bought that azalea?’
Cory immediately texted me ‘Hey Kevin, who bought that azalea?’ I knew exactly what he meant because I had just read that chapter the week before and rolled my eyes. Julia, I am trying to learn how to be more creative and write more, not go out and buy myself flowers. Cory and I began to chat back and forth about what our version of azaleas were, what were the things we were doing to get us out of our ruts and change things up. Walking down a different street, buying tickets to the philharmonic because you’ve never seen a symphony before and they are only $15, finally framing that poster that was rolled up in your closet for years. In Julia’s teachings those small acts you do can open up your mind and your creativity and eventually lead to some creativity of your own. A script, a book, a business. All stemming from the mindset of ‘Who bought that azalea?’ One time I did buy myself some flowers, not an azalea but thought, ‘You know what, I am going to stop making fun of Julia and buy some flowers for my apartment.’ They smelled pretty good and they looked great and I thought to myself, Kevin? Who have you become? Who bought that azalea?
In January 2017, 2 and a half months into doing the Artists Way I came to an exercise where you had to identify your dream. YOUR DREAM. I wanted to walk out of my apartment and go buy myself an azalea just to avoid the exercise. I would’ve rather spent a week picking leaves off of trees getting in touch with my artists child than do this exercise. Why? Because I don’t have a dream? Of course I do! But I don’t want to tell anyone about it, least of all myself! Put your head down, grind it out and wait for some opportunities to lead you down some path but don’t identify your dream clearly and then say it out loud for god’s sake. That’s disgusting. AND on top of that you’ll know when you failed!
I had been doing stand up for 6 years, I had some great jokes about my Dad and my Christian upbringing, I had a few good jokes about meeting Philip Seymour Hoffman. And I also had just broken off my engagement a month before our wedding and I also just had sex for the first time at age 30 in a one night stand that lead to a mysterious rash on my genitals, that would not go away and the doctors could not diagnose. The first few jokes were tried and true jokes that I had developed in comedy clubs and indie comedy shows around New York. The other two stories about my engagement and my dick were so painful and so scary the only people that fully knew them were my family and my close friends.
Just a few months before I started the Artists Way I was in the midst of my string of doctors appointments that I call my Mystery Dick Disease Tour, going from doctor to doctor each of them riffing on a potential diagnosis, I had heard HIV, I had heard syphilis, I had heard herpes, I heard had penile cancer. And I heard from all of them they were waiting on some tests to find out what it was. I took the train from my play rehearsal to meet Cory at a bar with some friends and texted him to see if he would come meet me outside and down the street from the bar.
Cory was one of the only people that knew I had just lost my virginity a few weeks before and he was also one of the only ones to know there were now these mysterious medical complications. I had just been at a rehearsal oscillating between saying lines in character and then putting on a nice face, chatting with the actors and directors between scenes. I was playing the role Robert the homeless man in the play and between scenes I was playing the role of Guy Who Is Totally Fine and Not Freaking Out About If He Has Syphilis or Not.
Cory met me outside the bar and down the street and we sat on the steps of a building in Brooklyn on 4th avenue and Butler street and I put my head down and I cried and he put his hand on my back and we just sat there for a while, not saying any words just sitting there. He asked how rehearsal went. I said fine. He asked if I had heard anything from the doctors. I said it's going to be a few weeks before the doctors get the tests back. We talked for a little while longer and he made sure I knew he was there for me and we hugged and then we went into the bar with all the other friends.
5 months after that night I was doing the Artists Way and I had to articulate MY DREAM which is as follows, typed out verbatim from my journal:
DREAM: Hour Themed Show. Stand up. Story. In a perfect world I would do a one man show that showcases my stand up
CONCRETE GOAL: It is known as very funny but heartfelt and honest.
5 YEAR GOAL: In 5 years it plays off broadway and is sold out
ACTION STEP: Storytelling nights.
3 YEAR GOAL: TOUR
1 YEAR GOAL: FULL SHOW WRITTEN OUT
1 MONTH GOAL: Go to a Moth storytelling night
1 WEEK GOAL: Write your stories out.
NOW: Buy Idea Journal!
A few notes about this DREAM. It was something I had been ruminating on for years. One of the first shows I saw in New York City was Mike Birbiglia’s Sleepwalk with Me, his mix of stand up and storytelling inspired me to get on stage for the first time. But this exercise with Julia was the first moment I wrote out and acknowledged it to myself that this wasn't a goal, it was a dream. If it is hard to tell the difference between a goal and a dream just imagine if I were to introduce you to a very special lady in my life.
Goal: ‘Hi, I’d like you to meet my hinge date?’
Dream: ‘Hi, I would like to introduce you to my wife?’
They are two very different things.
My one month goal was to go to one storytelling night. I did achieve that goal and also within that same month I submitted and was offered a slot at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival to do my new solo show that was a mix of stand up and storytelling entitled The 30 Year Old Virgin about growing up in a Christian home, getting engaged, breaking off my engagement a month before the wedding and being a 30 year old virgin with a mysterious penis disease that doctors couldn’t diagnose. Within 8 months of writing my goal out in that journal I was on stage doing this show 27 times in Scotland at the worlds biggest performing arts festival.
When I was in Edinburgh I was on stage one night performing my show to a full house, just one year and 3 months after the entire medical saga went down. People from all over the world, sitting there, laughing, at times jaws dropped wondering what would happen next, what the resolution to this story would be. I was living my dream and I had achieved my one and only concrete goal which was to make something funny but a also heartfelt and honest. After the show I stood outside the theater with a hat in my hand asking for donations because I was a part of the Free Fringe where people walk in to see your show for free and when they leave they pay what they want. People dropped 1 pound, 5 pounds, the occasional 10 pound note into my hat.
‘Fucking brilliant mate.’
‘Glad your cock is all healed up mate.’
‘Same thing ‘appened to me, wild innit’
Then a hooded figure came up and said ‘NOT MY THING, MATE, TRASH SHOW.’
Which is fine, your dream is not going to be for everyone, then he pulled his hood back and it was Cory. He had flown to Edinburgh secretly to surprise me and see my show.
‘I hope I can stay at your place the next few days.’
I was speechless, trying to process if this was real or not.
And then he said ‘But for real man, not my thing. Trash show.’
I laughed and we hugged and then he handed me a gift that he had made for me.
It is hard to acknowledge to ourselves that we have a dream of some sort. It is a little bit easier to acknowledge those dreams to a friend. And even easier if that friend has some dreams of their own they can entrust you with. Cory walked through that entire show with me, from the tears outside of a bar in Brooklyn when I was living through the story that would eventually be told on stage, until he directed the comedy special that is available on Amazon Prime right now for your viewing pleasure (SPONSORED POST). But it is imperative that you acknowledge your dreams to yourself at some point. Or else you won’t get to live them but more importantly other people won't get experience what comes from them whether it be a blend stand up comedy and heartfelt storytelling or a sea salt cookies recipe. And the sooner the better because those dreams are in there somewhere whether you acknowledge them or not.
I have a little cross stitch I keep on my desk in my office. I looked at it when I was preparing to film my first solo show, MY DREAM, The 30 Year Old Virgin, I looked at it when I was writing jokes for my second solo show The Diary of a Bald Kid and when I was doing zoom performances of my third solo show Vs. The City of New York. It is a little cross stitch that would look at home on your grandmothers side table. When Cory showed up to my show in Edinburgh he had brought me a little gift and just after he surprised me, he handed me what looked like a small book in wrapping paper and said ‘I’m proud of you man.’ I opened it up, it wasn't a book, it was a cross stitch, he didn’t buy it, he had it made just for me. In the middle there is a pink flower and below the flower is stitched a question.
‘Who Bought That Azalea?’
You are a very special cookie. So glad to have met you. Ping me when you come to DC.
bro what the hell its 541am and I'm crying. Cory god damn it Cory what a guy! I love Cory.
also, soft pitch here take it or leave it but what if with the whole sea salt cookie script, darlene is herself a bit of a sea salt cookie - she was born on the sea maybe to a couple sailor parents, and boy is she salty! Like she's got sass. Let's ya know what she's thinking. Or she did, before she cleaned up her act and got a real job selling rents to people. but as the cookie starts to blow up, her sea salt self does too.
Can she have her cookie and eat it too? coming soon to theaters (spec) and Vimeo (free)