Growing up,
my parents read the story of Frederick, the mouse, to me.
While I am certainly not a daydreamer, I aspired to be Frederick, full of light and radiance. I studied film and moved to Germany to direct theater plays. Today, as I drove home from a long workday, I thought about Frederick, the mouse. I reflected that the one thing those hard-working mice do not realize is that artists wake up to a blank canvas every day. By evening, there is the expectation that it is filled. The artist goes to bed and wakes up to a white canvas again 24 hours later, week after week, year after year, however long they manage to color in the void. A decade of highs and lows, I certainly had my share of vacuums.
As for me, I consider myself lucky to have seen both sides, and blessed to have found my dream along the way. Someday I hope to be the lawyer, who can shine her light on others and help those in need to find justice.
Making art is a job, and an important one. And until we have been there and done that, we should be grateful for the Fredricks in the world who warm our hearts and rekindle our spirits.
Winter is near and
all the field mice are busy preparing and gathering food for the cold months
ahead - all except for Frederick. Always the daydreamer, Frederick sits on a
rock soaking up the sun rays, much to the dismay of his fellow mice. However, as
it turns out, when darkness sets in and winter has come, Frederick has stored
enough sunlight to warm the hearts and feed the spirits of his fellow
mice. His radiance carries them through
a dark and cold winter.
While I am certainly not a daydreamer, I aspired to be Frederick, full of light and radiance. I studied film and moved to Germany to direct theater plays. Today, as I drove home from a long workday, I thought about Frederick, the mouse. I reflected that the one thing those hard-working mice do not realize is that artists wake up to a blank canvas every day. By evening, there is the expectation that it is filled. The artist goes to bed and wakes up to a white canvas again 24 hours later, week after week, year after year, however long they manage to color in the void. A decade of highs and lows, I certainly had my share of vacuums.
The few occasions I did
complain about not being valued adequately (as in not getting paid for the
work), or described how I had lived in the basement of a theater for three
months, the general response was the same: “Some of us have to do real
work. I wish I had the time to write
poetry and make movies like you.”
The fear of losing
our moxie, the loneliness and the isolation become a part of life. Some of my
friends reached for the stars and actually caught one. They live their dreams and trust that when
the dream fades away, they will find another one. But for the majority of us the dream factory
Hollywood is exactly that, a factory with assembly lines. Cast and crews work
together side by side, contributing their part. Day after day, these dream workers check back in. They take pride in the fact that their contribution is an important, essential part of the whole.
As for me, I consider myself lucky to have seen both sides, and blessed to have found my dream along the way. Someday I hope to be the lawyer, who can shine her light on others and help those in need to find justice.
Making art is a job, and an important one. And until we have been there and done that, we should be grateful for the Fredricks in the world who warm our hearts and rekindle our spirits.