it is not so easy to be me

"So, let me get this straight, you were going to move to Paris...like, really move there, and find a job, and work, and live like a normal human being...but instead you're just on a seven week vacation while the rest of us work like dogs? That is sooooo unfair."

I assume some, if not all, of you have had this thought in your head...if not about me, then about others who go traveling while you stay behind in the boring US of A. Well, let me tell you, its not all fun and games. While I've had my share of fun, and my share of being exhausted from having said fun, I've also been working. That is to say, I've been doing as much work as I can allow myself to do considering the megabucks (megaeuros) that I'm spending to just be over here without any income whatsoever. (Ah yes...income, you get that. I don't). If I hadn't already booked my ticket home, I've discovered a really cool thing that a lot of people are doing over here which is going to work on an organic farm for a couple of weeks. I'm not sure what the deal is exactly. Well, I just did a tiny little bit of research (and you didn't even notice I was gone!) and found out that basically, its these communities and in exchange for working for say 4-8 hours a day, you get food & lodging for free. Plus meeting people and picking olives, etc. I would love to do this for a few weeks...Maybe I will come back. Especially now that I've found Greece. It's amazing here.

Anyway, I'm writing this particular blog because today I went to see many of the ancient ruins in Athens. (we did a walking tour and it was a long day of walking but really very amazing...I took almost over 150 pictures...compared to the maybe 45 pictures I've taken throughout the previous 3 weeks that I've been here). The guide told us that many times, people would go to look at these ancient pieces of artwork to do their own work, because they believed the spirit of those classic artists came out and into them while they were working. This I will explore in the coming days. Which brings me to my point...My work.

It is a fool who gives away his work for free. But it is also a fool who keeps his or her world to hisorherself. So I am going to share with you, at least ideas or portions, of what I've been working on here.

First off, This Very Blog!
I've been trying to explore different styles of writing, and have found this blog very useful. For those of you who do read this blog, and are dealing with the schizophrenic attempts at realizing my voice, I apologize. But really, fuck you if you've got a problem with it! (I'm only kidding. What would I do without you all...the millions of readers I've got). Anyway, I do apologize to you all as this blog has become less of a way for me to recant the stories of my daily blahblahblah and more a way for me to express myself in different ways. If you're into reading attempted road-trip style literary amateurism, then you've been reading the right thing. If what you want is cold hard facts about what Nathaniel J Porter is doing with his time...you'll have to consult the CIA.

Okay Next. The Big Play.
I began writing a piece in Paris, at the Cemetery of Montmartre, inspired by the things that I was seeing and doing and feeling in my first five days there. Which means, a lot of emptiness, a lot of cemeteries, and a strange artists community. It had a plot to it, which was something slightly Orwellian in that it was about this conspiracy concerning artists, and how artists themselves were repressing artistic work in order to have the higher-ups in the community arise to greatness while the rest were left in the dust (the dust of the dead, as it would be in this play). I'm afraid this one probably will die out. While the plot is semi-intriguing to me, and the scenario and relationships between the characters something I was interested in...I'm now too distanced from the source, I think. I only got through about 12 pages handwritten, and to go back almost 3 weeks later and try to rehash those feelings and that place is going to be difficult. Nevertheless, who knows, someday that Parisian Play may come about.
(What ended up happening was I met people in Paris and began enjoying myself and didn't want to write at all, let alone about this sort of depressing, highly-intellectualized subject matter...and when I did try to make some progress on it, I was stuck.)

So after Paris (where I wrote some blogs, and read some plays, and read about some art) I went to Barcelona. Something in the air of this place, as well as the feeling I was getting just moments before leaving Paris, inspired me to start writing short pieces. Mostly it was so that I would force myself to actually write. I tried, while I was in Barcelona, to either write a Blog Post or a short play each day. I don't think I succeeded with every day, but I did post quite a few blogs, and I did write 2 short plays (I will post links to those once I get them). The street performers in Barcelona spoke to me. And even more, the reggae music that was prevalent there began speaking to me too. Those of you who knew what I was working on prior to leaving Seattle know that I've got some sort of political urge within me right now (and it doesn't have a lot to do with the Obama "Change" ideal, but its along those lines..I think coincidentally). So the mixture of Barcelona, reggae, and my own anxiety came together to form some short plays which I find interesting. Once in Seattle, I plan on having at least one of them performed on the streets. (More on "Once in Seattle" in a bit).

And then...
I realized that this Paris play was probably not going to work out, so I've been trying to think of ideas for another longer play, and I've began developing an idea, and I've got some lines running through my head, but I haven't actually written any of it yet. Hopefully timing & inspiration will line up soon and I can put something on paper. (I think I will force it, actually, by going up to the Theatre of Dionysis and writing for a few hours there in the coming days...talk about inspiration...my life would be close to nothing without it). The idea, though, is that it will be a play about a movie, based on a book, written about a song, written about this woman. So it's going to be all these different phases of reality and non-reality and truth and non-truth and real people versus fake people...and near the end, this woman that inspired all of this will appear. I'm pretty excited about this idea, and the fact that it lends itself to comedy. I like writing comedies, and have been having more and more trouble finding that.

And Finally, The Novel.
Also, I have not started writing this one solidly, but I've been piling up ideas for it with everyone I meet and from all these stories and different attitudes and languages and everything that comes off of people that one meets. Also, I've been listening to the audiobook of Chuck Palahniuk's "Rant" so I can't deny the inspiration that's been having on me. I have the few lines, I think. "I first started shifting when I was 24. I was traveling in the Mediterranean, and one day, it just happened. I suppose you could say that was the last day that "I" existed." Despite the seemingly autobiographical nature of it, it's not. What I've found is that I've been explaining a million times over how to say my name, and what I do, and where I'm from, etc. etc. I've also been walking by all these interesting things and thinking "if only I had the money to buy that." But I know that I'd only be interested in it for about a day, and then my interest would go somewhere else, right? Life is often like this. Well I've been wondering, what if every day was new. It's like, I've heard of this disorder and things written about it, where you can't remember what happened to you the day before, so each day is completely new. Well, the idea is similar to that, but instead, each day you still can remember everything that happened previously, but you deliberately shed it. Say today you are wearing this shirt and these pants and you own an iPod and you are reading James Joyce. What a "shifter" does is, the next day, the shifter sells (or probably trades) EVERYTHING for something new. Even the shifter's name. Today I am Nathaniel. Tomorrow I will be Joshua for a day, and I will wear sunglasses and a ring. I'll be a professional gambler, etc. The idea is of, rather than a geographical traveler, it is an identity traveler. Anyway, this is the basic idea, and I reckon it'll be years before I've made significant progress on it...but it's exciting to me none-the-less.

Right. I bet you're tired of reading this. "I come home from a full days work and now I've got to READ about how you've got these "ideas" for writing but haven't even done anything?!" Pipe down. You don't have to read this. I'm just an opportunist, giving the opportunity for insight. Take it or leave it.

Last thing I'm working on: Once in Seattle.
I am young. I realize this. And by all logic, theres no reason I shouldn't be patient. But, I'm not really all that patient as a person. And whether or not I'm worth anything, i've got a huuuuuuuge....ego. So when I get back to Seattle...I'm not going to allow myself to sit in any shadows any longer. I'm going to rely on you all my friends to keep me going. I really want to push myself. I don't want to be stagnant for one moment. I want to take the streets and put on performances. I want to establish a company completely dedicated to presenting new work by Seattle writers, whether it's good work or mediocre work, I want it done. Whether it's medium sized budget or very low budget, I want it done. I want to explore instead of recreate. I really want to keep pushing the boundaries in Seattle. I am my father's son, so I have a lot of business sense and logic and blah blah blah working in my head, but fuck it. I don't want a single thing to stand in my way, and I'm going to try to overcome this fear of trying new things and doing things dangerously. If I get in trouble with the law over something, I don't really care. If people hate what I'm doing, I don't really care. If no one wants to work with me, I'll do it on my own. This is what I plan on doing in Seattle. So whether you are a theatre person or not, I might be calling you up for favors. I might be asking you to help out in a little way or a huge way. I may even ask to crash on your couch if I spend all my money on some little piece of crap that I want done and end up not having enough money to pay my rent (it's all possible.) In return, I'll do anything I'm capable of. You see, in order to make meaningful art, you just cannot be nameless, as sorry as that is. So I'm going to give myself a name.

Congratulations, you've reached the end of the most vain post in history.

NATHANIEL PORTER