Waste time. That’s what I do. I sit idly, wondering why I have nothing to do, forgetting millions of projects on backburners. Instead of devoting all energies to one set goal, I divide up my energy to every aspiration I put forward in my head. On good days, I get out of my element and character and am decisive and motivated. I pick a favorite hobby and get serious about it. I get swept away by the excitement and enthusiasm of single-minded application. Overall, I love being. I am a writer, a musician, an actor, and a coxswain. I love being all of the above.
Both playing guitar and writing are important to me, allowing me to articulate my emotions in two very open-ended and expressive mediums. I find writing to be much more representative of myself. I have been claiming the title “writer” since the age of four, and my style has developed slightly since that initial proclamation. I get intensely frustrated when I cannot convey my feelings through writing because writing is my first impulse and my saving grace. When I can’t write I am ill at ease, awkward, I can’t think, and I can’t get out of my own personal purgatory. Being a writer evokes pride and confidence where there would be a void.
Writing is my first love and completely fits, whereas with music I am still grappling with originality and creativity. No matter how much I agree with the original creator of a song, when I play someone else’s music I can only interpret their emotions, not my own. Rendering myself to be judged exclusively on my technical talents, playing other people’s music is less genuine and honest to me. When I listen to a song and find myself able to decipher it into chords and notes, that’s one of the best rushes of accomplishment I receive on a regular basis. Writing music is more intense and rewarding, but infinitely more difficult for me. Jamming for hours with talented musicians, riffing off of ideas I stumble across while I aimlessly play guitar, and performing live – I live for that kind of adrenaline rush.
I am filled with a different sense of accomplishment when I do crew and act. While I feel the same intense adrenaline rush, I get a less comfortable contentment from their respective “achievements.” Winning a race and performing a part fill me with relief and a less intrinsically satisfied gratification than writing and guitar playing. I hastily speculate that I am less at ease with acting and crew because I have been writing and playing music for so long that they have become second and third nature. Everything else feels alien and less essential and fundamental, but I’m working on it.
My position is one of the more bizarre ones in the sporting world. As a coxswain, I sit in a small seat, facing an athlete that is leading seven others in a set of completely matching motions. Confined by a narrow, sixty-four foot long boat, these eight place the blade of an oar in the water and propel themselves backwards towards the finish line using virtually every muscle. While they repeat this action approximately two hundred and fifty more times, exhausting themselves almost completely every stroke, I yell. I critique their technique; I make them row near flawlessly. I steer the boat using a rudder the size of a credit card, and I call the race plan. I am their eyes, their brain, their motivator, their steering mechanism, and their dead weight. I am the only one facing the finish line. I never stop talking and the pressure of eight lives, tens of thousands of dollars worth of equipment, and the outcome of a race, is overwhelming. It is addictive and I can’t help being proud at the clack of oarlocks in unison and the shell cutting through the water, deadly and soaring.
Acting is a fairly new passion, and I feel like a rookie next to seasoned veterans. It’s theoretical to me – I’ve not been in a single show. I guess at what to do when on stage and try and struggle completely. It’s an amazing rush to be without a net, in total control of the outcome of a performance piece. The consequences are to risk failure and embarrassing all fellow actors involved. Without the possibility of failing on your own, acting would have no pressure to be great and moving. Becoming a character is the ultimate test of versatility and control, something I’m having fun developing. I still feel green and awkward with acting, though I get exponentially more comfortable daily. It’s fresh and alive for me, something I am still exploring and perpetually discovering in a new way.
All of these things are motivating and productive. These passionate and vital activities are making me interesting and interested. And I like it. To wind down, I like reading and that’s uncomplicated enough. Writing, playing music, coxing, acting, and reading keep me breathing, as long as I can keep juggling them.
